The Flame Maiden of Hygard
by LadySpontaneity
Summary: The Frost Giant meets the Dragon Queen. Another contender vies for the throne of Westeros, but perhaps he has found something he wants even more in this realm... a fiery woman to shatter the icy wall around his heart. However, he is not the only God making his mark in this realm... (Set at the beginning of season 3 of GoT.)
1. Chapter 1: A Fallen God

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Avengers or GoT. They are just fun to work with.

**Pairing: **Loki/Daenerys

**Summary: **Read and find out!

Chapter 1: A Fallen God

Earth. Midgard. It didn't matter what anyone called this place. It was bleak and insignificant._ An exile. _Loki sneered down at the mortal world ruled by the humans. Truthfully, it was a pity. Such creatures had no business in the line of ruling. They were made to be ruled after all. Why else would such pathetic creatures continue to be content with the mundane activities of mortality? They had submitted themselves to the grand delusion that they were all free. And yet the vast majority had no idea of the dark force that was watching them right now, a master deity of illusions and power.

And watch them he did. Loki stood to his full height as he paced the rooftop on which he was perched. From this angle it was easy to view all the stars that were spread beneath Asgard, including Earth. He had only to leap off the roof and he would be submerged in space, wandering the stars for an eternity. He had to wait for a certain event before he would dare attempt to leap off of such a height. A red comet was coming. Red comets signalled a shift in the balance of worlds and mimicked the celestial event known as the Great Convergence. During the Great Convergence, the nine realms overlapped and the laws of physics would overturn during a rare occasion of the worlds aligning. It is very easy to travel between worlds during such a time however the red comet would only appear briefly. Loki would have mere moments to use the opening to create a portal if he wanted to leave this realm and it would tax his energy greatly.

Thus until that time, Loki used his own abilities to peruse the Earth with ease, frowning when he realised that despite his attack on New York, the mortal realm was relatively unscathed. It seemed the humans thought they were safe now that the danger had passed. He bared his teeth in utter agitation as he glared at the blue and green orb situated thousands of light years away. _So_, he mused, _they that no matter what, their precious Avengers would protect them_?

How little they knew.

As hilariously unaware as they were however, Loki tired quickly of this game. This puny realm was merely a stepping stone in his plans. It was a pebble really, one which he intended to shake from his boot very soon. The unfortunate band of misfits, the Avengers, thought they had him all figured out.

Loki smiled evilly at the memory. His alleged "plan" to rid the world of its freedom had failed quite miserably, or so he had led them all to believe. His true plan was already well underway. Loki knew that he would never get back to Asgard through sheer force of will. No, he would need to be taken as a prisoner. The fastest and easiest way to do that had been to declare war on Thor's precious Earth. His own brother saved him the trouble of trying to fight his way back into Asgard, where he was most powerful, and had simply led him through the front gates, albeit chained but intact. The Avengers would have known this, had not their pride and tiresome sentiment for mortality interceded.

_Arrogance_, Loki thought spitefully. A trait neither common nor befitting of such an ordinary species. They thought they had thwarted the God of Mischief? He was the most renowned magic user on Asgard! As if he would be bothered or even inclined to rule the tedious realm of the humans? In their current era, they were far less entertaining with all their science and surfacing technologies. Not to mention, the band of murderers and spies who thought they were on some justice mission, ridding the world of other murderers and spies. It was enough to make even the God of Mischief raise his eyebrows. Again, it all came back to the arrogance of the species. These humans thought they knew better? During their mythological age, humans had worshipped Loki's people as gods.

_Thor's people_, he corrected himself quickly. His adopted brother actually respected the humans. He was weak just like them. He may have he seemed powerful with his taut muscles and his mighty hammer. But really what was power if not used? It became the opposite of useful. His brother and the useless humans he had chosen to protect would eventually fade out of existence. Really, Thor should be thanking him. Loki had forced his brother to finally put all the blonde muscle to good use. Humans no longer worshipped them, but they would not easily forget the day that Loki showed them how simple it would be to destroy them.

_There's a thought_, Loki mused. He clicked his teeth together in contemplation as he once again pondered the world beneath his feet. It almost looked peaceful. That would all change. Soon everything would change. Thanks to his fallacious plans to take over Midgard, Thor convinced Odin to bring Loki back to Asgard along with a perfect and limitless power source. The Tesseract. To leave it in the hands of the humans would be a death sentence. They had already witnessed firsthand the destruction of its power. _Amateurs. _Once they returned to Asgard, Thor had towed Loki in chains to a prison cell to await judgement. As he had done so many times before, Loki skilfully eluded his captors with one of his illusion tricks. It was quite laughable, though Loki was sure this would be the last time he would benefit from this particular ability in the presence of his brother. Thor looked positively murderous as Loki's image faded before his eyes. Intentionally avoiding any bloodshed so as not to incur the further wrath of the Asgardians (for they were truthfully a mighty and revered race), Loki disappeared into the depths of the city. But not before snatching his sceptre, the very weapon that had helped him achieve his goals on Earth and incidentally would also help him with his next plan. He would need the staff's power to reach his next destination. And he was relying on the connected power of the Tesseract for his return.

For a long time, Loki had a far more delicious idea in mind than taking over Asgard, or Midgard for that matter. He had his eyes set on a greater prize. The nine realms all existed as part of an intricate tree, as Thor had once named it, all connected and all unique to the stars of their galaxy. But only in **this** galaxy. At the apex of this tree, however lay a portal which extended beyond the nine realms and into the next galaxy. Although the Asgardians had not ventured so far into this portal to know its full boundaries yet, they had travelled far enough to ascertain the existence of a tenth realm.

They had named it Hygard for although it lay beneath them, it bore a certain resemblance to both Asgard and Midgard. It also required a tremendous amount of energy to travel to this realm, one which could certainly result in a one way journey if proper planning and his access to power failed. But truly, this world was a prize. It opened the door to the possibility of a whole new series of realms, worlds where Loki could easily establish himself in the supremacy role he rightfully saw himself in.

The Asgardians however had pushed no further than to establish the existence of this tenth realm. For they already ruled their own galaxy. _As will I_, Loki decided. He was nothing if not ambitious. This new realm also presented far more interesting endeavours within it then Midgard, even from the brief glances that Loki had managed. It seemed that this world was possessed of both mortal and immortal beings, old gods and new gods (though they seldom made an appearance) and creatures of immense power and beauty. _Oh yes_, Loki thought to himself as he leaned against the pinnacle of the roof overlooking the stars. This world would prove a far more worthy realm to rule than the pitiful planet of the humans. For although it seemed Hygard was indeed inhabited by humans, these were no ordinary humans like the ones found on Earth. They had not become encumbered by science and technology, for their world possessed power in the form of magic and darkness. This world was still ruled by kings and gods, and was in a constant state of disaster whether by mythical beasts or from the dominion of throne usurpers. It was positively medieval and ripe for plucking. Loki's fist clenched around his sceptre and he returned his attention to the task at hand. His sceptre would only get him a part of the way. For Loki to arrive at Hygard in one piece, he would need to expend a vast amount of his own energy. It would leave him weak and inevitably vulnerable when he first arrived, but the magic of Hygard would provide both he and his weapon a gradual recharge. And when he was once again at his full potential, he would bring Hygard to its knees. As a bonus, rather than enslave Earth, he would simply unleash the full ferocity of the tenth realm upon them. Now all he needed was for one final boost to his strength for him to travel to Hygard. A red comet, which would trigger a powerful flux in the atmosphere, opening a short-lived portal between worlds, was his best chance. And it was happening **soon**.

Loki glanced at his sceptre as it began to glow, signalling the celestial event. He steadied himself against the roof as he prepared himself for the jump. Although he had fallen forth into space before, he recalled that it was not a pleasant experience. He slammed the base of the sceptre onto the tiles beneath him, shattering a few on impact and shooting energy in an outward spiral around his body. This would ensure he was not thrown from the rooftop when the comet shot past but it would not hold for long.

The sceptre glowed more brightly and began to shake in his hand as the comet approached and, although Loki could not yet see it, he could feel the space before him beginning to shift. The comet would tear right through the fabric of reality, allowing Loki one shot to get to Hygard. If he missed or he hesitated, it would mean certain oblivion. Power continued to build and the energy surrounding Loki suddenly condensed as he struggled to maintain the minor level of protection that the energy provided. He would need it up until the last possible moment. The temperature of the atmosphere soared as the comet streaked a path across space, approaching Loki at light warp speed. He gripped his spear tighter as his eyes could make out the distant trail of the comet at its approach. It looked like the coming of the dawn. Time seemed to stand still and for a moment, Loki wondered if it had already occurred.

A split second later the red comet shot past, scattering the energy Loki had accumulated and splitting open the vortex, thus providing a clear path through to Hygard. His spear was almost ripped from his hand as Loki held tight to his weapon, gazing into the tear of reality and the world to which it led. It was much brighter than the space he was about to leave however he lacked the time to harp on this for long. Knowing he had only moments before this power surge was over, he clasped the sceptre tighter, tearing it free from its firm wedge within rooftop and jumped into the open vortex. His stomach plummeted as he fell through space but he knew it had worked for he was not floating, but falling fast; falling hard through space and sky... deep into the realm of Hygard.

A god was coming.


	2. Chapter 2: From the Sea

Chapter 2: From the Sea

_Daenerys_

Hands braced evenly against the ship's railing, Daenerys gazed out across the Narrow Sea. Not since the first Dothraki horse lords rode through Essos had any of their warriors ventured across the water. Daenerys' heart clenched as she watched the remainder of her khalasar empty the contents of their stomachs. Were she able to carry that burden for them, she would and gladly. The various groans and gurgles on the deck below however was a painful reminder that no matter how hard she tried, she could not protect her people from everything. Thankfully, not all of her party were privy to the sea sickness of the horse lords. Beside her, Ser Jorah Mormont stood with steady sea legs and a relaxed posture. Daenerys was thankful to have him there. She doubted that she would have been able to witness her people become stricken with sea sickness without his helpful council.

"It will pass, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah assured her, noting her distress. Daenerys bit her lip and simply nodded.

"They are the first of the Dothraki race to cross the Narrow Sea," he observed, mirroring her earlier thoughts.

"More will follow by example," she said with only some degree of certainty. Ser Jorah smiled in return. She sounded so commanding and royal, but her own thoughts betrayed her. She did not _want_ to make her people have to endure unnecessary pain in any shape or form. That the sea caused them to be sick did not bode well with Daenerys, especially since she intended to make it all the way to Westeros to reclaim the Iron throne.

A delighted roar from above signalled that Drogon had spotted an object of interest. Daenerys grinned as she watched her largest dragon pinball into a dive beneath the waves, rising moments later with a large silver fish clenched in his claws. Not content with the wriggling prey, Drogon tossed it into the air and shot a fiery blast of red flame to cook the flesh. He playfully caught the cooked fish mid-air before devouring it quickly. Her other two dargons, Rhaegal and Viserion, were less tempted by the fish and were happier chasing each other through the sea mist that arose from the waves lapping at the boat. Occasionally their antics would send them tumbling into the side of the boat, causing it to rock rather rapidly in the ocean swell. A particularly rough shove from Viserion sent Rhaegal and the boat lurching to one side, resulting in several moans of discomfort from the Dothraki. Daenerys glared at Viserion who had the decency to look ashamed as he huffed apologetically. Shaking her head, Daenerys pointed to the base of the mast, signalling for her dragons to settle on the deck. Drogon herded Rhaegal and Viserion onto the mast where their claws found purchase on the rough wood. Drogon perched himself at the top, with his tail wrapped leisurely around the pole, looking to Daenerys for approval.

Daenerys' gaze shifted momentarily from her dragons to something that glinted off of the sun in the distance. Her eyes tracked the object as it fell through the air and spiralled into the waves below. She squinted, trying to make out its exact shape once it connected with the surface of the water.

"Jorah," she said uncertainly.

"I see it Khaleesi," Ser Jorah said, using her formal title and resting a hand on her shoulder as he too had noticed the unusual gleam. "It's probably a piece off a broken ship."

Realising that he had missed the objects' unusual descent from the sky, Daenerys turned to the wheel of the ship, intent on sailing towards the object and determining its exact origin. What in Westeros would fall from the sky, save her dragons?

...

_Loki_

The turbulent waves dunked Loki under the surface again as he gnashed his teeth in irritation. Angling his body into a more streamline position to control his movements in the water, he breached the surface again and searched around wildly for land. This he had not anticipated. Through all his planning, Loki had failed to consider the possibility of where he might make berth in Hygard. Unfortunately, at this point in time, his sceptre was less than useless, only serving to weigh him down as he attempted to stay afloat. It was a miracle he had managed to hold onto it when he landed face first into the damned ocean! Worse still, without his mystical strength, he could feel the sceptre's weight now more than ever. If he wasn't careful, he would have to leave it or risk sinking. He was a god for goodness sake! He should not have to deal with the tribulations of filthy sea water which he was struggling to keep out of his lungs. Within minutes, Loki could feel himself tiring as he hefted the sceptre whilst attempting to swim. He sputtered as he realised the complete absurdity of the situation. Surely he couldn't _drown_. With some difficulty he tied the sceptre to the sash at his waist although he wasn't sure if this was better or not. He had no idea how he would accomplish his goals without it. Moving his limbs in shaky strokes, he froze momentarily as he saw the recognisable shape of a ship not too far off. Short of shouting with joy, Loki realised with increasing anticipation that if he concentrated his efforts on not losing his sceptre, he would not have to part with it at all provided he could get aboard.

The ship continued its path towards him and he raised his sceptre with the intent of lodging it deep into the wood of the hull for purchase. As the ship neared however, the waves off its base rushed towards him and sent him tumbling under the surface again. Thrashing his arms in irritation, Loki swam for the top only to have his head connect harshly with the top of his sceptre. His head thrummed in hot pain and his vision became foggy. Loki thought he felt something light and rough graze his arm as he floated dazed in the water. His grip became light around the sceptre and all he could think was how he was glad he had thought to tie it to his waist before he faded into darkness.

...

_Daenerys_

"Haul it aboard!" Daenerys commanded, rushing down the steps towards her men as they dragged the creature up the side of the ship.

"_Keep back, Khaleesi!" _Garakh, one of her Khalasar brothers implored her in the Dothraki tongue. She ignored him and attempted to dodge Ser Jorah as he stepped into her path.

"Wait, Khaleesi," Jorah tried to persuade her but she had already glimpsed the object of interest. What she saw made her stop short as she stared at the mess that fell onto the floor of the ship. Now she understood the reason for caution.

"Is he alive?" she asked quietly, staring at the pale, drenched man before her. Her eyes widened slightly as she realised he was dressed in a warrior's gear and was armed. Well, sort of. Had he really been hefting that thing through the water?

"He's breathing," Jorah responded to her question. "Although gods know how."

Her dragons hissed and growled from the mast, wanting to understand the odd commotion on the deck but Daenerys could not take her eyes from the deathly still form before her. She noticed the slight rise and fall of his chest which indicated that he was alive as Jorah had said, although undoubtedly weak and sick. His features were quite easy to make out as his face was rather refined. He was handsome in an unconventional sort of way, perhaps a bit pale. Oddly enough his midnight locks contrasted nicely off his white skin which she also noticed was quite free of injuries. This seemed odd given the circumstances they had found him. He was not even sun burned. She frowned as she contemplated where he had come from. This was not what she had seen falling earlier. Men did not come from the sky. Her eyes settled on the spear which seemed just as unlikely however she could think of no other explanation. Perhaps this man had also seen it and had made his way over to it. She scanned the ocean around her but could see no other ship. How in the world had he ended up here?

A soft groan below had her kneeling before the man as Ser Jorah and the Dothraki muttered their disapproval. It was not uncommon for them to become defensive of her safety whenever there was an armed stranger in her presence. Still there was little he could do in his current state. The man gave a gargling hiss before coughing up a mouthful of water onto the deck. He tried to open his eyes but evidently found it too bright or too painful and quickly shut them. He raised a hand blindly before letting it fall back to the floor with a painful gurgling sound as he choked on some more water. Daenerys smoothed his damp hair away from his face as he leaned to the side and vomited up the sea. Gasping for breath he at last managed to open his eyes and he stared at Daenerys through some black strands of hair that fell across his face. She tried to smile reassuringly at him but he closed his eyes again before she could say anything of comfort. He tried to mumble something but fell into a coughing fit again as she withdrew her hand.

"What's that?" she asked gently. More coughing, and some croaked but indistinguishable dialogue were all that came out. Daenerys thought she heard the words "mewling quims" but considered it an odd thing to say, especially to someone who had just saved his life.

"I don't know if you can hear me all that well but I promise you that no harm will come to you here. It's alright. We'll help you," she said with absolute conviction. He groaned again and she placed her hand on his chest. He shuddered under her touch. "It's alright," she said again, hoping to sooth him. "Get some rest."

Daenerys had no idea where he had come from, but she knew that there was something distinctly unique and almost ethereal about him. At the same time, she realised he could also be dangerous. Ser Jorah helped lift the man from the floor to carry him below deck as Daenerys slowly stood from her crouch. Whoever he was, Daenerys couldn't help but feel a slight sense of excitement and foreboding for what would come when he finally awoke.


	3. Chapter 3: The Girl with Violet Eyes

Chapter 3: The Girl with Violet Eyes

_Loki_

He was back in Asgard. Loki stretched his legs leisurely in the silk sheets that cradled his torso. The smell of spicy incense reached his nose and he wondered vaguely who had brought candles into his room. The he heard the soft splashing of waves and felt the ever so slight shift which signalled that he was not on land at all or Asgard for that matter. Loki's eyes snapped open and he pushed himself into a sitting position. He scanned the room and its unusual apparel. It resembled a luxurious tent somewhat, with all its silken hangings and jarred incense except for the distinctive wooden walls as Loki recalled that he had seen a ship. He also remembered being hauled carelessly aboard like some catch found in a net. His nostrils flared angrily as he made to throw the sheets from himself and deal with the mewling humans who had no doubt thought him a drowned sailor. The very idea that he had had to be rescued by humans made him shudder with disgust. It had grown dark since his landing on the deck too and he noticed a slightly ajar window opening to the stars outside.

As he removed himself from the surprisingly comfortable bed quilts, he looked around for his sceptre and realised with mounting fury that the humans who had "rescued" him had also disarmed him. He had been stripped of his armour also and was attired only in his simple black under robes and sash. Growling, he stood and stomped over to the door, yanking on the handle and was astonished to find it locked. He stared at his hand on the handle for a moment as he contemplated the situation. The humans had locked him in. His knuckles turned white as he squeezed the knob with force. The mewling quims had locked him in a tiny room that looked like it was designed for a concubine! Pulling his fist back he pounded heavily on the door and was even more enraged by the fact that it did not budge. His strength had been diminished to embarrassing proportions. He leaned his head heavily against the door and breathed in slowly through his nose. He quietly counted under his breath the number of humans he was going to kill once he got out of there. When none came to open the door he made a sound of exasperation and returned to sitting on the bed. His hands fisted in the sheets , taking in their smooth texture and it suddenly occurred to him that he may not have been far off the mark when he thought this a concubine's room.

Violet eyes, he remembered. Of course. He recalled now he had seen a maiden amongst the dark savages who had dumped him on the deck. He had only caught a glimpse of her before he fell unconscious once again. However, she stood out amongst her company not only because she was female but also because as dark as the men were, she in contrast was startlingly pale. Even her hair fell in long white- blonde waves across her shoulders. All but her eyes were pale. Her irises however were actually a bright violet colour. He had never before seen such eyes on any being he had encountered. The rest of her features had been obscured by his soaked hair at the time, but he'd wager she was pretty as he noted the expensive cloth and jewels on a nearby table. He wondered who she entertained on this ship to warrant such gifts.

He was shaken from his thoughts as the door opened at last and a mature man with dusty blonde and grey hair stepped through. He was not as dark as the others and he dressed seemingly as a warrior not a sailor or a barbarian. Although he wore no armour, a sword rested at his hip and a dagger was hidden rather poorly in his boot. He waited, amused, to see what the man would do but he moved no further, instead assessing Loki from his position in the doorway. Apparently feeling he was in no immediate danger, he moved further into the room. Loki felt his anger return at the man's presumptions and stood to his full height. Before the man could speak, Loki stalked forward and was pleased to note that he was still taller than his quarry. Without his abilities, he was currently relying only on his impressive and imposing appearance.

"Where is my sceptre?" Loki demanded.

The man's eyes widened slightly at his directness. "So, you speak the common tongue," the man stated. "Good, that will make things easier."

"My sceptre," Loki growled again, flexing his fingers.

"Ah yes, that," the man said, not intimidated in the least. "Just a precaution, I'm sure you understand. The Narrow Sea is full of pirates and brigands and we couldn't take any chances. Not in these waters."

Loki's eyes narrowed in fury."Do you have any idea who I am?" he hissed, his fingers curling into a fist.

"Oh, I'm sure you are no brigand," the man continued smiling wryly. "But it's hard to trust someone whom you've never met. Perhaps we should start with introductions? Even now I have no knowledge of who you are."

"But you will," Loki promised with venom in his voice. "I want my sceptre!" 

"Indeed," the man noted Loki's clenched hand. "Well, I would advise against any rash actions. I have no intention of returning it to you just now. There is no need for such a weapon on board our vessel."

Loki shook with unmasked rage. "It is still mine," he said, barely containing the urge to rip this man's head off. 

"Of course," the man said easily. "And it will remain yours. But I will not have an armed stranger in the presence of my... crew," he said with some hesitation, as though searching for the right word.

Though his abilities were now limited, Loki could sense the partial lie in his words. "Do not let it concern you," the man continued. "I believe I spoke of introductions. I am Ser Jorah Mormont. It was my men who found you."

"You expect gratitude?" Loki spat, appalled at the idea of owing this man any debt.

The man stood calmly before him. "That would not be entirely unorthodox. It is luck enough that we found you."

"And luck is all it was," Loki assured him angrily, tiring of the conversation. "If you would drop me at the nearest port, I will be on my way WITH my weapon, _**Ser **_Jorah," he said, intentionally lacing the title with insult.

Loki recognised that it was probably not in his best interests to kill this man when there were several others who could easily subdue him in his weakened state. But he would get away from this man's company as soon as possible and he sure as hell was not going to be polite about it. He went to go past Jorah when soft footsteps on the stairs beyond the doorway signalled another's approach. He paused as heeled boots came into view followed by soft, luscious curves clad in a cerulean dress and framed by blonde – **no silver, he realised** – beautiful thick, _silver_ tresses that fell past waist length. His eyes travelled up the figure before him and froze as he was met with a penetrating violet gaze. It was she, the vixen who had found him.

"Khaleesi," Ser Jorah said uncertainly, addressing the woman. "I thought we had discussed that it would be better if I handled this."

"And I thank you, Ser Jorah," she replied coolly, still not removing her gaze from Loki's. "But you forget that I am quite capable of handling myself. I just wanted to be sure that our guest was alright."

"Khaleesi-" he started to argue but was silenced when her eyes flicked to his indicating that the discussion was over. Loki couldn't help but blink in surprise. Well, this certainly was a twist. It seemed that the order of authority belonged to this tiny woman.

Khaleesi? He did not realise that he had spoken aloud until both Jorah and the woman turned to regard him. "Do you understand the term?" she asked, addressing him for the first time.

Loki shrugged, but not in amusement. "Should I?"

"Dothraki is not the easiest tongue to grasp. It is not uncommon to have not encountered the language before."

Loki leaned casually against the banister of the bed. "It is not spoken where I come from," he answered. The woman nodded in understanding.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, searching his face for signs of discomfort or pain.

Loki's posture had slowly begun to relax and he found himself smiling charmingly at the woman. "Never better," he said, grinning devilishly. "I recover quickly." Her eyes widened a fraction at that as she regarded him now with a piqued curiosity. She truly was exquisite and quite beyond the league of any of the men on the ship. _Or this planet_, he thought idly.

"This word, _Khaleesi_," Loki tested the word on his lips. "It is your name, then?"

She slowly shook her head but it was Ser Jorah who answered. "It is all you need call her," he said, not bothering to mask the warning behind it.

Loki's lip twitched. "Then it is a term of endearment?" he said suggestively. "Perhaps for a lover?"  
Loki saw a flicker of annoyance cross her delicate features but made no other comment to his jibe. He snorted under his breath as Ser Jorah's jaw clenched tightly. He had no need of his abilities to understand the way Ser Jorah looked at the woman was very different than the way she saw him in return. He wondered how long the man had carried a torch for the youthful, silver-haired beauty. A pathetic plight really, for it was obvious that the woman, this Khaleesi, harboured no notion of romance toward him. Though it was easy to understand his sentiment, Loki mused as he gazed at the woman.

"It is a term of respect," Ser Jorah gritted out.

"Well, Khaleesi, haven't had the pleasure," Loki said, smirking as his gaze raked her form once again and he extended his hand in invitation. It was a red flag, one which he intended to bait Ser Jorah with and was rewarded immediately.

Ser Jorah swatted hard at the arm Loki had extended. "Nor will you!" he snapped, stepping forward to shield the woman from Loki's prying, evocative gaze. "Do not forget sir that it was we who rescued you from the oblivion of the ocean. You are a guest on our vessel and you would do well to show this woman the respect that is owed her for saving your life!"

"Jorah," the woman said in alarm, stepping out from behind him. "That is enough. Please, this is not necessary." She seemed unsure of whether Loki was intending to be deliberately mocking or if he simply lacked etiquette manners. His eyes twinkled with mischief. _So innocent_, he thought. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion however at his barely contained smile. "So you do not know who I am, then?" she asked carefully.

_No I _don't, Loki thought. But he was beginning to understand. As luck would have it, he may have fallen to Hygard and landed in the sea but he had been rescued by somebody important. This could go better than he had hoped. Loki spread his arms out leisurely and deliberately stretched his muscles, intent on playing the role of seducer. He did not miss the way her eyes flashed to his exposed, taut flesh either. "I thought you were called Khaleesi," he said sarcastically, playing along.

"But you have no knowledge of me?" she pressed, trying to ignore the way his muscles flexed regally. "Or why I am called that?"

Loki pulled on his innocent face, reserved better for those who were not aware of his usual tricks. "Should I call you something else?"

"No but I-"

"Because you said your name was Khaleesi."

"I never actually told you my name."

"And I never actually told you mine. So we're even."

The woman stopped short. "True. What _is_ your name, then?" 

Loki just smiled though and shook his head. "I don't think so. Not if you won't share."

"My name is Yolanda," she fibbed easily. Loki almost burst out laughing, easily sensing the lie.

"Nice to meet you, Yolanda," he sniggered. "I'm Fabio."

She blinked. "Are you lying?"

"Weren't you?"

Loki expected venom at his light accusation but instead she smiled openly at him. Laughing softly, she held out her own hand. "Well played. I am Daenerys Stormborn," she said. "Of house, Targaryen."

Loki instead took her hand and turned it over, placing a gentle kiss on her palm. "A pleasure, Daenerys. I am called Loki." She accepted this easily and withdrew her hand as he released her fingers with a lingering stroke.

"Well I am glad to see you are better, Loki," she said graciously. "You were out for the better part of the day. It is now nightfall."

"Bedtime, then?" he suggested cheekily. Daenerys blushed prettily as she looked quickly at her own bed and then back to him. Ser Jorah stepped between them once again however before he could hear her reply.

"It is getting very late, so I'm sure you'll understand that the lady would like her chambers back now so she may get some rest," Ser Jorah said pointedly, glaring at Loki.

Loki glared right back, mentally picturing an image of this man's fractured skull with his sceptre lodged deep within his brain stem. Instead he said, "Of course. I appreciate your hospitality, Daenerys."

Daenerys smiled kindly at him and gestured to Ser Jorah. "Jorah will show you to where you may sleep. He will give you whatever you need should you find yourself wanting for anything."

Somehow he very much doubted that. "Yes, thank you _Ser_ Jorah," he said sarcastically, earning another fierce look from the man himself.

Daenerys was oblivious to both of them. "Good night then. The beds should be comfortable despite the sea weather."

Loki smirked as he passed her on his way out the door. "Though not as comfortable as in here, I'm sure," he winked. Daenerys was shocked by his blatant flirtation but found that she did not object to it. Still, she was no pushover even if he thought himself charming.

"Good night, Loki," she said gently but firmly.

"Out," Jorah growled moving Loki past Daenerys and out into the corridor.

...

Ser Jorah led Loki down another flight of steps and into a smaller wooden room where all the Dothraki were sleeping side by side. Loki curled his lip in disgust and was about to suggest to Jorah that he would rather lie with swine but was surprised when he led Loki further still and into another room which turned out to be empty. He opened the door for Loki, gesturing for him to follow. Loki stepped into the room and though it was a bare standard for even the most piteous of creatures, was glad to see that he would not be expected to share it. The ship was evidently bigger than it looked. Ser Jorah cleared his throat, and Loki looked at him annoyed. "I understand that you have had a trying experience since we pulled you from the ocean only today. But understand this," he said threateningly. "If any harm should come to Daenerys, anything at all and I have even the slightest suspicion that you are involved, there is nowhere in this world that you can hide."

Loki looked at him, thoroughly entertained by this man's supposed threat. "Your words betray you Ser Jorah," he said with a calculated grin. "I wonder how Daenerys would feel if she knew that her beloved protector was having such insidious thoughts about her?"

Ser Jorah froze, mortified that Loki had caught on to the feelings that he had worked so hard to suppress since meeting the Khaleesi. "Oh, don't worry," Loki chuckled. "Secret's safe with me. Besides it's not as if you have a shot there. A childish dream really. It's unbefitting of a man of your age," he drawled. "She's so young and ripe. It would be a waste of your mature...charms."

Loki was pleased to see that Ser Jorah's fingers itched to go for his sword, an action which Loki hoped he would carry out. It would be so easy to snap this man's neck, even given the givens. Ser Jorah whipped around however, and slammed the door shut in Loki's face. _Ah irony_, Loki thought bemusedly. He had not had so much fun in thousands of years. And with humans no less.

...

_Daenerys_

"I still do not trust him," Ser Jorah said from behind the dressing stand as Daenerys prepared for bed. He could only just make out her shadow, but no more, from behind the gauze.

"Jorah, you do not trust anybody," she pointed out, pulling a silken chemise over her head. "He is on a boat full of strangers himself. Has he reason to trust us in return?"

"We did save his life," he grumbled from behind the gauze. Daenerys smiled as she slipped on her robe and pulled the sash tight. Men were truly childish at times, no matter the age. She stepped out from behind the dressing wall and laughed as Ser Jorah went to avert his gaze, even though she was fully covered.

"I did not say that I trust him," she said softly. "Merely that I like him."

"Why?" he said incredulously, turning to look at her again.

Daenerys played with the ends of her sleeves which fell past her wrists. "He's interesting."  
Ser Jorah stared at her as if she were mad and she sighed, exasperated. "I don't know. He's just... interesting. He's confident and different and kind of blunt."

"And that's good?" Ser Jorah asked doubtfully.

"It's interesting," she reiterated. "There's just something very formidable about him. It intrigues me. I don't think he is some sailor we found on his dying breaths. Did you see how quickly he recovered from lying in the cold seawater? No obvious injuries that I could see. And the way he carries himself! I think he might have been important wherever he came from. Yet we found him alone, in the middle of the sea. Don't you think it an odd combination?"

"Yes!" Ser Jorah exclaimed. "And I think that goes to show the lengths of how far we can believe this man. You have a kind heart, Khaleesi, but I think you are too trusting. Believe me, I have seen what the consequences of trusting the wrong person can do, even if you have not."

Daenerys gave him a reproachful look and backed towards her dresser. "I know firsthand what happens when you put your faith in the wrong person. Have you so easily forgotten Drogo?" she asked softly. "Or my son?"

Ser Jorah felt the regret at his words stab him like a knife. "You are right," he said, upset that he had hurt her. "I'm sorry. Just be cautious with this man, Khaleesi. My gut still tells me that I am not wrong. And under no circumstances reveal to him the existence of your dragons. I still wish you had not told him your name."

Daenerys pushed off from her dresser and moved towards her bed, hoping Ser Jorah would take the hint. "I doubt it matters Jorah. In 5 days we shall arrive in Astapor, and by then everyone shall know of my whereabouts anyway. It is hard to conceal the Mother of Dragons."

'Not if you keep them hidden below deck," he insisted. "When we arrive in Astapor we can be rid of this man and he will be none the wiser."

"No! I will not lock them up due to the presence of one man. I cannot bear to keep them contained on a boat," she said purposefully.

Ser Jorah let out a frustrated groan. "Khaleesi," he implored. "This man is suspicious, and potentially dangerous. The dragons would be much safer out of sight, out of mind. And you should also avoid him as much as you can on our way to Astapor. I do not like the way he stares at you. His gaze upon you lingers much longer than it should."

"Stop it," she snapped. "Enough. I appreciate your council but they are my dragons and I am not worried for their sake so much as his if it came down to a fight. Remember your place, Jorah. You are not my keeper. And you are not my father."

His heart broke to hear her utter those words, for he was acutely aware of the fact that a father would not harbour such thoughts as he did of her. To have her think of him as a father hurt more than a flat out rejection ever could. "I'm sorry, Khaleesi," he told her, the protector side of him coming to the surface again to mask the anguish he felt at her words. "I will leave you to bed now."

"Thank you," she said, hoping he would see this as her apology and not be distant with her later. She climbed into her bed and then turned from him, placing her back to the doorway. She just barely heard the audible click that signalled he had left her alone as she pulled the covers over her body. She gave a soft yawn and as her eyelids fluttered, she could faintly smell a masculine scent which lingered on her pillow. She had missed that ever since Drogo's passing. Smiling faintly, she snuggled down deeper into the quilts and it wasn't long before she fell asleep, dreaming of icy blue eyes and black water.


	4. Chapter 4: These Creatures of Myth

Chapter 4: These Creatures of Myth

_Loki_

He actually ached. That stupid, impossible bed which was basically two sheets on a wooden slab with a balled up blanket had made his back all stiff. Loki had changed into some simple sailing gear, much to his chagrin and had stashed his warrior's garb and sash in the corner of the room. He stood, clad in black leather pants and a dark grey cloth top which opened wide at the neck, revealing the beginning of his sculpted chest muscles. He also wore half calve boots, which he had borrowed from his previous outfit and hoped never to wear again once he regained his abilities and could change his appearance at will. As for food, he found he needed sustenance as regularly as a human would but for now had to make do with what was available on the ship, namely staple food such as grains and dried fruits. The drawbacks of mortality were limitless it seemed. Impatiently brushing a hand through his raven hair, Loki felt a small fizzle of energy crackle at his fingertips. He smiled triumphant as he lowered his hands and stared at the faint traces of magic that had started to return to them. He was gaining his abilities back even faster than he expected. Though, he puzzled, this should only happen in the presence of other magic, like siphoning energy from a nearby power source. A throaty screech from above made him start and he stared at the door which led upstairs. _What the..._? Loki pushed open the door, listening tentatively. He heard the shriek again, albeit softer this time and he moved beyond the doorway, taking the steps two at a time leading to the deck. He had heard a similar sound before, but not for eons.

Several men moved swiftly out of his way, surprised by his abrupt entrance on the upper floor of the ship as they unravelled ropes and secured cargo items. Loki ignored them, glancing around for the source of the noise and his eyes caught a glint within the water to his right. Cautiously, Loki approached the ship's railing and he stared at the jostling waves as they slapped against the ship. He thought he saw something, however the water continued to slosh against the side of the ship and Loki could no longer here the shrieks. Again, something flashed beneath the water and Loki jumped back abruptly as a dark, scaly creature about the size of a large dog with scarlet red claws broke the surface, flying straight for him. He ducked but it flew overhead with a large fish dangling in tatters from its talons. He stared in amazement as the creature used its fiery breath to scorch its prey into cinders as it roared its pleasure. Two answering roars had Loki turning as two more of the beasts emerged from the water and skidded onto the deck, shaking themselves off like dogs and sporting similar catch. The Dothraki around him seemed fairly undisturbed by the magnificent creatures and carried about their business, only moving so as to make room for their enormous wingspan. The creatures' wings, he noted, were almost triple their own body length.

"Dragons." Loki breathed as he stared astounded at the mythical beasts which had been extinct for many centuries across the nine realms. They were the stuff of legends, creatures of immense power and beauty, and it was suddenly no mystery as to why Loki could feel his power returning. Feminine laughter reached his ears and Loki turned to see Daenerys emerging from her own cabin, clearly amused at his display of awe. Purring, one of the dragons on deck approached her and Loki's first instinct was to warn her away for dragons were possessed of a scorching temperament which matched the very fire that they breathed. Instead, the dragon bowed its emerald head and allowed Daenerys to settle a delicate hand on its scalp and to gently stroke the scales there. He took a step back as he witnessed this mortal woman pet the dragon as if it were a common trained housecat! What was even more astounding was the dragon seemed to be enjoying her ministrations as it gave a throaty purr and rubbed its neck against her arm. Daenerys laughed again at Loki's dumbfounded look.

"You should see your face," she said, a knowing smile crossing her face. Loki forced himself to close his jaw just short of it thudding to the deck and he pointed a hand, gesturing to the dragons.

"You... command them?" he asked, thunderstruck.

Daenerys smile grew and she gave a slight shake of her head. "No, they will generally do as they please. For the most part, they will listen to my instructions but at times they can be as disobedient as young children."

"But you control dragons," Loki insisted, unsure of what to make of her now.

"Control is not the right word for it," Daenerys said with a frown. "I do not own them for they are free to do as they like. I have raised them from hatchlings."

"How?" Loki demanded, coming to stand directly before her and causing her green dragon, Rhaegal, to bristle in agitation. "The dragons are all gone! They do not exist anymore!"

Loki's outburst made Daenerys wary and she noted that he did not retreat from her dragons even as they eyed him in warning, baring their teeth. Drogon flapped his wings harshly and landed directly above Loki on the mast, ready to spring should he make any rash movements. Loki's eyes tracked the dragon but he did not seem afraid, merely cautious as Drogon too kept his gaze on him. Viserion joined her at her side and Loki watched with morbid fascination as the two dragons crouched at her feet, aligning themselves directly between them. "They are the first of their kind in centuries."

Daenerys extended her fingers and lightly traced the ridges on Rhaegal's head. "How did you come by them?" Loki asked, truly fascinated.

"Their eggs were a wedding gift," she responded, though she missed the subtle tightening of Loki's jaw at her words. "The ages had turned them to stone. Though not entirely for I was able to eventually hatch them."

"How?"

"Fire," she said. "And dark magic." Loki was surprised that she had used dark magic to conjure them but was quickly learning that this woman was much more than she appeared. She was quite possibly the most stunning woman he had ever seen, even on Asgard. She had a fire to her that was in stark contrast to her silver hair and translucent skin. She was both dark and light at the same time and he was beginning to understand that this term, 'Khaleesi', in fact meant 'queen'. Queen of dragons? _Impossible _Loki thought _she's just a human_.This did not remove the fact however that, in a day, this woman had saved his life, revealed to him the continued existence of dragons and had managed to surprise him. Loki could count the number of people who could do that on one hand.

"Who are you?" he asked quietly, but it seemed more a question to himself.

Daenerys stood still, not quite sure how to answer him. "I have already told you my name. I did not lie to you," she responded honestly.

"I know," he snapped, turning from her. "That's why this does not make any sense."

He paced for a moment, placing his fingers to his lips in deliberation and Daenerys was shocked to see Viserion get to his feet curiously and shuffle towards Loki. As his claws scrabbled across the deck, Loki noticed the commotion and looked down to see the pearly, gold dragon almost level with his hip. He slowly lowered his hand as he contemplated the dragon before him before his eyes darted back to Daenerys. _Her name_. "You are Daenerys of House Targaryen," he recalled aloud what she had told him the night before. "What does that mean?"

"What does that mean?" she echoed, not understanding. Her Dothraki brothers watched the exchange, though she knew they only understood partial phrases of the common tongue.

"Your name. It holds power, I can feel it," Loki persevered. "What is the significance of 'Targaryen' in this land?"

Daenerys stared at him strangely and tried to formulate an answer that would fit his question. She opted for a brief description of her bloodline. "My House is one of the great Houses in Westeros. Our words are "Fire and Blood". The sigil is-"

"A dragon." He finished for her.

"Yes."

"What else?" he asked, watching Viserion as he tittered playfully, eyeing Loki. There was something in Loki's face as he stared at her dragon, almost like reverence.

"You truly do not know the history of the Houses?" she asked, confused. "Where exactly is it that you come from?"

He hesitated and she saw it. "A lot further than one can travel by ship."

"Where?" she pressed, curiosity getting the better of her.

"I promise you that you would have never heard of it."

"Well, not if you don't tell me."

"It matters not."

Daenerys gave a soft sigh of frustration and resumed petting Rhaegal's head. Loki mimicked her sigh and glanced out to the horizon. "Where are we going?" he asked suddenly aware that he had not the slightest clue where the ship was headed.

"Astapor," came the rather masculine reply. Both Loki and Daenerys turned to see Ser Jorah as he descended from the steering helm. "That's where you get off."

Loki raised his eyebrows but did not smile at the man. "Oh really? And when do we arrive at this harbour?"

Ser Jorah seemed pleased with the prospect of saying goodbye to this man. "In a little under five days."

Loki looked at Daenerys. "What's in Astapor?" He was curious to see her averting his gaze as she idly stroked Rhaegal's horns.

Ser Jorah answered for her. "Astapor is not our port of destination, merely a stop off." Loki glared at him before returning his gaze to the woman before him.

"Daenerys?" She looked at him then, surprised he would address her by name and chose to give him as vague an answer as he had provided her.

"There is something there that I need."

Loki could tell she was being deliberately unforthcoming in retaliation for him not revealing where he was from but he chose to ignore it because he needed to know more about this land and its inhabitants. Did other humans wield similar abilities as to hers? Or was it simply her house, her line that called to the power of dragons? A thought occurred to Loki as he turned to regard the dark Dothraki warriors that looked up to this petite blonde, before placing his gaze upon Ser Jorah who had excused himself to return to his post at the helm. Daenerys had a knight in her service and several barbarians who despite their appearance, Loki was sure could handle a blade. She also carried herself with a respectful composure and dignity that was expected of a high born lady. Her determination, however, was what caught his attention and as the pieces fell into place he began to ponder if she was perhaps royalty, or even a contender for the throne of Westeros. Though he lacked the names of the contestants, he knew the game all too well. This game of thrones. He wanted the power of this realm for himself, but he knew with certainty that others within this world also sought dominion by ruling through the iron throne. It was the only thing he knew for sure of this realm, that it was ever plagued by magical beasts and throne usurpers. That would cease the moment he came into power for once he held the throne he would ensure that no one would dare challenge him. Not even this girl.

A light growl from below interrupted his thoughts and Loki stared at the gold and white dragon before him and had the strangest urge to touch it. He moved his fingers towards the dragon, but decided against it as he clenched his hand into a fist.

"He won't bite, you know," Daenerys assured him softly. Loki looked to the dragon again.

"He'd come off second best if he tried," he warned and Daenerys gave a short laugh at his quip. She moved away and stood at this ships railing, gazing out to sea and looking thoroughly the part of a lovely siren, ready to lure men to their deaths.

Loki shook himself from his thoughts, feeling somewhat nauseated and put it down to sea sickness as he began pacing again. "You must tell me more about Westeros." He stared at Viserion for a moment as the dragon seemed to grow bored of the exchange and spread his massive wings. "And the houses," he added quickly, stepping back as Viserion took to the sky.

Daenerys continued to contemplate the open ocean, enjoying the breeze upon her skin. She shrugged. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything."

_Daenerys_

Daenerys almost jumped out of her skin at his closeness as she whirled to find him right there, whispering in her ear. She opened her mouth to demand he move away from her, that this wasn't appropriate when he reached forward to brush a blonde curl off her cheek. She jerked her head away from his touch and he smiled grimly.

"And in return," he continued. "I will tell you about where I'm from, and how I came to be in the position you found me." She looked up then and met his icy blue eyes, but all she could read in them was sincerity. Her curiosity was going to get her into trouble some day if it didn't right now. She could feel her resolve wavering and he saw it. He resumed pushing the lock of hair away from her face, and gently tucked it behind her hear. "So, what do you say?"

...

Over the next several days, Daenerys felt somewhat like a historian as she recounted the names, words and sigils of the respective houses in Westeros. Loki hardly made any comment, at least not on the subject matter as he listened intently to her recount of how the iron throne was forged, the birth of the seven kingdoms in Westeros and eventually how her family had been forced into exile in Essos.

He seemed thoroughly engaged as she described the dragons that her family had rode throughout history, and the size of the skulls they had left behind. She was pleased to note that his admiration and fascination was not just for the dragons themselves, but for the blood link that her family shared with the creatures. They would sit on deck and she would demonstrate the connection and empathy she felt for her dragons through touch and spoken commands as they gradually grew more comfortable within Loki's presence. He had almost opted to touch them but he stayed his hand, out of respect she presumed. Ser Jorah did not like it, but it was more for the amount of time that she spent with Loki than any real concern for her safety. After all, Daenerys pointed out to him one day, she was not giving Loki any information that was not already widely known. At Jorah's insistence however, she relinquished her disputes against having a guard posted at her door of a night, for she still had many enemies who could reach her, even by water.

During their sessions, Loki had broached the subject of how she had ended up in her current position and of her marriage to Drogo. Daenerys found herself hesitant to talk of the subject as the pain was still very much fresh and it felt strange to discuss even the topic of her brother's execution. She had likewise attempted to persuade Loki to share his own background for she was certain that he was more than he appeared. He would smile mischievously each time however and insist that it was not the time to tell her. He promised that as soon as she had had finished her lessons on Westeros, he would reveal all. This kept Daenerys coming back and as a consequence he had since grown bolder in his attempts at seducing her, much to her mortification and to the dismay of Ser Jorah. When they were alone, he would crowd close as she narrated the histories of the Seven Kingdoms, never taking his eyes off of hers. Touching was minimal but he left a scorching heat upon her skin whenever they came into contact.

Now, alone in her chambers, Daenerys was forced to admit that she found him irrefutably appealing, however her heart still mourned the loss of Drogo. This did not stop her mind however from drawing similar comparisons between the two and she wondered if this was her way of explaining her fierce physical attraction to this man. They both had dark hair, though Loki's reminded her of midnight and silk whereas Drogo's battle braid had reminded her of black leather and stallions. Drogo's skin was rough and weathered whereas Loki's was smooth and untarnished. Loki had the same formidability that Drogo had and yet she had never once seen him demonstrate any skills in combat. Ser Jorah still had his weapon stowed away on the ship and she was surprised that Loki had not asked for it again.

Despite his attentions, Daenerys forced herself to repress any sexual desires she harboured for him since she knew they would part ways in a matter of only two days. A light shiver ran up her spine that had nothing to do with chills and she raised her hands to ghost them over her arms. Her breasts felt heavy and it did not help that her nipples were taut thanks to her shiver and were uncomfortably chafing against the thin material she wore over her chest. She crossed her arms, annoyed since it was surely drawing near midnight but Daenerys could not force her body to rest. She wanted to be wrapped in muscular arms again, to feel safe and secure and not have to be the strong, stubborn Khaleesi all the time. Knowing that Loki was only a matter of metres away, she stared at her door almost willing her feet to get up and find the man who had haunted her dreams these past few nights. She huffed, reprimanding herself for even wanting such a thing. She barely knew him after all! Despite her objections, she found herself not caring and it was this part of her which also wanted to take the risk, to throw all caution to the wind and surrender to selfish agenda. Would it be so wrong in the grand scheme of things to indulge their mutual attraction for a night even, when they would not likely cross paths again?

She had wanted to raise the subject of his leaving for days, wishing to know where he would go from Astapor however she knew it was bold to ask since she had not yet even revealed her final port of destination. Furthermore, he had not asked. She knew Ser Jorah was right about them having to leave Loki in Astapor once she acquired her army of Unsullied. This was her true purpose in sailing to the slave city. Not for any other reason would she make berth in a slave city as her disgust at the trade and selling of humans like mere possessions was overwhelming. She was still uncertain she could even make the deal, for Unsullied were exactly that - _slaves_.

Either way, she was eventually destined for Westeros, and here Loki could not follow. Any man not intending to join the fight for Westeros would die there as surely as any soldier under the strict orders of the current ruler, the little prince prick Joffrey. It was rumoured that Joffrey was the product of an incestuous relationship between the former false Queen Cersei and her brother, no doubt explaining the current predicament as to who should rightfully inherit the throne. Never mind the fact that it was _**her**_ family who rightfully brought the Seven Kingdoms together! It was only a mere traitor who had acted against her father which forced her family's removal from the succession of the throne. Since then, the Seven Kingdoms no longer flourished with trade and wealth, and the news of babies being slain in their mother's arms made Daenerys sick to her stomach. She had every intention of changing that and the first thing she would do, she vowed, would be to make the insufferable bastard Joffrey pay for every life lost to his selfish whims.

Perhaps she would let her dragons play with him first, she thought harshly, gazing to the corner of the room where the three of them slept soundly. It was the most unusual thing to watch a dragon sleep for, though they did not snore, odd wisps of smoke would occasionally rise from their nose and then descend again into the nostril from which the arose. As she was contemplating this, she again thought of Loki as she watched her dragons all curled up together, content and comfortable. Biting her lip, she removed her dressing gown and crawled into her bed which should have felt warmer than it was. Attempting to force sleep, she closed her eyes once again before she sat up with a sigh of frustration and removed her under chemise as well, leaving her top half bare. Without the added heat of her clothes, she settled back into bed and as her breathing slowed she at last fell victim to her exhaustion and drifted off to sleep, unaware of the cold blue eyes that watched her from the darkness of her room.

_Loki_

Loki jerked back within his own body with a ferocity that almost sent him tumbling from his pathetic excuse of a bed. He gasped and braced himself against the wall as he found himself sweating, exhausted from the effort it took to hold his astral form. That he had gained this ability back so quickly was promising, but it exerted a toll on him that he would have to get used to until he was at full strength again. He had practiced this ability every night since their sessions had begun, watching her as she slept although this was the longest he had been able to hold it.

He gave an evil smirk as he contemplated what he had just witnessed. Daenerys was fighting her attraction for him with every ounce of her being and he could only wonder as to why. Although he could not fully interpret her thoughts as of yet, it was not fear or the cold that left her shaking and quivering in her bed as she stroked her arms and chest.

He could not have predicted that she would then shed her top, leaving her perfect boobs naked to his hungry gaze. Of course it also snapped his concentration and sent him reeling back into his corporeal body, though it was well worth the sight of her exposed flesh. He had not even begun to pull her strings like the beautiful instrument she was and still she was tuned and ready. His groin ached in anticipation and he had decided long before this that he would not be leaving them in Astapor. Loki would not be denied and he would not be played as a fool. He knew their intended destination now was for Westeros where Daenerys intended to reclaim the iron throne although it seemed they would make several stops along the way. If her objective was the same as his then so be it. He would play along. He would use pretty words, lies, seduction, power, whatever was necessary to get her to trust him and to let him into her heart. And then, when her defences were down, he would claim her and the iron throne. He would have both, the supremacy of Hygard... and the Mother of Dragons.


	5. Chapter 5: More Questions

Chapter 5: More Questions

_Loki & Daenerys_

...

This was getting tiresome. Daenerys had been giving him the cold shoulder ever since she had awoken. How was he supposed to infiltrate her heart when she would not even give him her eyes? He had not before encountered such a problem with a woman. Not that he had actively pursued many since so few had caught his interest over the years. Still he was a man and, as any man did, he had needs. And when he sought to fulfil said needs, he was not usually met with resistance. He growled in frustration as she breezed past him once again, ignoring him for the third time, on her way to the helm. "Why do you avoid me, Daenerys?" Loki followed her intently from below deck as she weaved past her men pulling on the sails to settle on the steps near the mast.

They were set to arrive in Astapor tomorrow and it couldn't come a moment too soon. Loki was tired of the open ocean and the constant motion and groans from the Dothraki men and, by the looks of it, their travels had finally taken a toll on Daenerys as well. Loki stopped in front of her, and leaned back against the railing, waiting patiently for her answer.

"I'm not," she said crossly, sounding as weary as he had ever heard her. "I just don't feel like reciting the histories of Westeros today."

Loki drummed his fingers against his crossed arms as he processed her explanation. Honestly, _women._ "You mean you don't want to talk. To me."

It was a statement. Daenerys opened her mouth to argue but seemed to realise that he could see right through her. "No I don't," she said with finality. "It is hardly talking, Loki. Talking would imply an equal discussion between two people. Our conversations however are one-sided. You never speak of yourself or where you're from, even though you promised you would."

Loki almost smiled. He should have known this was coming. In fact, he had in a way been waiting for it. He yearned for the moment that he would push her buttons just a little too hard and she would breathe fire. He longed to see the fury of her fire. Truthfully, he was stalling until some of his abilities had returned. He feared her insular human mind would neither believe nor comprehend his true account of Asgard, at least not without proof.

"I haven't reneged on my promise," he pointed out but she eyed him coldly.

"You haven't made good on it yet either."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "Careful, Daenerys," he warned. "You want to know so much about me, do you? You might not like what I tell you." He crowded close then, too close for comfort. She was already sitting so she scooted back along the step but was met with the side of the ship.

Loki just moved closer still, bending until he completely obscured her view and all she could feel was his chilled breath on her neck. "Should I tell you then? Hmm? About the dark world where I was born?" he whispered in her ear, making her shudder as her hair moved with his breath.

Her own breathing hitched, "I- I don't..."

"Or how about the false world where I was raised? Brought up alongside a brother who I could never hope to match. All that power and goodness... as if I ever stood a chance."

Daenerys pulled back from him to read his expression. "You had a brother?" she asked, astounded that he had actually shared something.

Loki ignored her and continued with his chilling words. "Perhaps I'll tell you about my father. Oh, he's an interesting man, you'd like him. He wasn't overly fond of me as a baby though. I think I disappointed him. But he wasn't quite prepared for how I would turn out either." He laughed as though he found this amusing, though Daenerys failed to see how any of this was funny. How in the world could a **baby** be a disappointment? His words sounded so forced that even she could not mistake the biting edge or the bitter explanations he gave.

Loki saw when she started to inch away and his hand shot out in front of her, blocking her attempt to stand up. He moved in front of her again. "Now, none of that. You wanted this, remember? You wanted to learn all about me."

Her eyes darted past him to her men, searching for Ser Jorah, her dragons - anyone who might interrupt this rather uncomfortable conversation. "Why be like this?" she whispered fiercely when she saw no one was watching their exchange. "What do you have to gain by being so cryptic? It is not explanations that you provide Loki, but more questions. And after I told you everything you wanted to know. I answered _all_ your questions."

"And now I'm answering yours," he said with a wicked grin, watching her face blush in anger. "It is by habit that I appear as inexplicable as I am. But I suppose I could tell you about Midgard and Asgard at some point. Hmmm, no that's boring. Oh, I know. How about I enlighten you to all the people I've killed?"

Daenerys face changed and horror overwhelmed her anger for a moment. "You're a murderer?" she gasped, attempting to grip the wall behind her but finding only smooth purchase. Her violet eyes clouded with fury.

Loki's dark smile widened. "Don't play naive. It doesn't suit you. Would you name all of your Dothraki warriors as murderers?"

"That's different," she hissed, insulted. "Killing in defence is sometimes necessary. Repulsive, but necessary. It's not like they enjoy it!"

"No?" he asked, still smiling. "You might be surprised. All the same, I don't recall saying I enjoy it."

"You're being deliberately dark and you know it! Who smiles as they talk of killing people?!"

"Maybe I like emphasis," he smirked, his eyes on her mouth.

"Maybe you like me scared!" The words tumbled from her lips before she could stop them.

Loki's eyes sparkled triumphantly. "Maybe I do. Murder is the way of the world, Daenerys. You sail for Westeros even now and you expect that blood will not be shed in some manner?"

Daenerys did not know whether to be surprised or not. Loki seemed to know things that he shouldn't. He was better at reading people than anyone she had ever known. But she would not abide his insolence.

"Do not call me naive again," she said dangerously. "I know exactly how the world works Loki. Blood is shed, reborn and shed again. Slaves are sold, babies butchered and people go hungry. That's why I intend to change it."

She stood then and Loki rose also, impressed by her fortitude. Although he was much taller than this slight woman, she did not back down and looked every part the fierce and determined Queen of the Seven Kingdoms. She stepped towards him and her eyes took on a stormy texture.

"The Dothraki owned slaves once. They have killed for many decades without remorse but they follow my rule now and I assure you, the Dothraki do not follow easily. Their respect must be earned."

"I see," Loki said slowly. "And you intend to take back the Seven Kingdoms with a handful of men who will _respect_ your wishes?"

Daenerys lips tightened. "You think yourself clever? Figure it out!"

"Oh I already have," he assured her truthfully, for he had indeed gouged the real reason they sailed for Asatapor. "Your ship is bound for Astapor, a city renowned for the transaction of elite warriors. You intend to acquire an army there. An army of unmatched warriors. How am I doing so far?"

"Well done," she replied acidly. "But you left something out. They are _slave_ warriors. Never forget that detail."

"Now we're getting somewhere," Loki said, grinning. "Astapor may prove interesting, after all."

Daenerys' temper flared once again at his smugness. "It is a good thing then," she snapped. "I have had about as much of your company as I can stand!" Her eyes looked him up and down once before she turned on her heel to storm off. _Oh the nerve_, she thought angrily. If Drogo were still alive, or even her brother, they would have thrown him back into the sea the moment he challenged their authority. And here she sat entertaining him, telling him stories of her family and their kingdom only to have him mock her! She had not taken two steps when...

"Don't be foolish, Daenerys," came the soft warning. Daenerys halted and whipped around to face him once again. Loki held his hands up in surrender and approached her calmly, still holding his hands in the air. "It's not an argument that I seek."

"Truly? Well you could've fooled me."

Loki crossed his arms. "Truly. I am not mocking you," he said, as though reading her thoughts. "But you must be prepared for what is to come. I can help you."

Daenerys gave him an amused glance, forgetting temporarily that she had been ready to toss him off the boat only a minute before. "You, help me? I confess I'm curious as to how."

Loki could not help feeling insulted by her look of disbelief. "How do you think?" he said as though the answer were quite obvious. "I can fight you know. Among my many talents."

"Many talents?" Daenerys repeated disbelievingly.

Loki gestured around the ship to her men and her dragons who were wrestling nearby, oblivious to their banter. "I have ways of getting by unseen. I can make people look the other way, so to speak. Have you noticed that we have not been interrupted since I first trapped you in this corner?"

Daenerys cursed silently as she realised that he was correct. She had noticed it before when he first starting invading her personal space and none of her men intervened but she realised now with growing clarity that neither the Dothraki nor her dragons had spared them even a glance. Not once. It was astounding.

She contemplated Loki as he watched the pieces fall into place in her mind. "Say you're right," she said reservedly. "Say you have a whole facet of talents that could benefit my cause. How is it that you can fight, exactly? I have never seen you lift a sword during any of the combat sessions where the Dothraki train."

It was Loki's turn to glare now. "First of all, between you and me, I could show your Dothraki fighters a thing or two. And second of all, are you serious? You found me in the middle of the sea, toting a weapon that I am sure you have never seen the likes of. Did you think it was a decoration? To go with my belt, maybe?"

Daenerys fought the smile that threatened to lift her lips. It was pleasant when the tables were turned and she was the one insulting him. Loki continued. "Not to mention the fact that my weapon has been under surveillance and kept from my person since I boarded the ship!"

Feeling rather bold, Daenerys stepped towards him. "Would you be willing to showcase your skill now?"

Loki's trademark smirk returned and he leaned closer, expecting her to pull away as normal. To his surprise however, she remained passively still as he moved ever closer. "What do you think I've been doing since first we met?" he murmured suggestively.

"Your _combat _skills, Loki," Daenerys said patiently.

Loki pulled back to stare at her. "I could, were I so inclined. What scenario would you propose?"

"Against two of my man," she offered. "If you are as talented as you say, it should be no hard task. No weapons."

Loki snorted. She seriously expected him to fight a round of fisticuffs with her mewling mud monkeys? "I don't think so," he said with a look of disgust. "Try again."

"If you fear to even do this..." she trailed off as Loki interrupted her.

"I fear nothing," he snarled. "I simply have no desire to be puked upon this day."

Daenerys gritted her teeth against his lash at her men. It was unnecessary for it was plain to anyone that the Dothraki obviously lacked sea legs.

"Fine. What do you suggest?" Daenerys crossed her arms. Loki tapped his chin for a moment and then held out his palm.

"Give me your dagger," he commanded but she made no move to retrieve it from her boot.

"Please," he lamented and his sincerity had her bending down cautiously. She retrieved the short blade from her boot, turning it in her hands ever so slightly but she still did not give it to him.

"Daenerys, your dragons, your men and your precious Ser Jorah would be on me within moments if I was to try anything and you know it. Take a chance," he suggested. She reluctantly slapped the dagger into his palm, blade first and felt some satisfaction when he gave a slight hiss as its sharp edge made contact with his skin.

He flipped the dagger in his hands, studying it and then held it up as though determining its weight. As she watched in fascination, he let it slide to the tips of his fingers barely holding onto the blade anymore. Quite impossibly, he managed to balance the blade by its tip from his pointer finger, whilst its handle remained perpendicular to the floor. Then he grabbed the handle with his other hand and threw it quite suddenly towards the mast. The blade flew through the air, wedging deep into the wood, aligned directly between the first sail knot and the second. There could not have been more than two centimetres between them. A perfect shot.

Daenerys was by all accounts impressed as he stalked forwards and retrieved her dagger from its lodge in the mast. She gave a shout of protest however when he then proceeded to throw it into the water. She rushed forward, leaning over the railing to try and glimpse the sinking weapon. Drogon finally noticed the commotion and screeched at Loki, diving forth into the sea to retrieve the blade.

She glared at Loki as he merely watched amused while Drogon dove throughout the waves, searching for the dagger. She was about to call him back, to inform her thoughtful dragon that it was indeed lost when Loki pulled back his wrist and procured the blade. She stared, mouth agape as he grinned and held it out to her. She snatched it from his hands and examined it at length. It was no trick, it was truly her blade.

Drogon emerged from the water, shaking himself off on deck and trilled at Loki with annoyance. He rubbed himself briefly against Daenerys' legs before returning to his wrestling antics with Rhaegal and Viserion. Loki watched as she turned the blade over and over. "How did you do that?" she asked at last as she raised her eyes to his.  
"I told you. I have many talents." And with that he walked right past her, descending the stairs leading to his room and leaving her once again with more questions than answers.

_Loki_

Daenerys followed him as he had hoped she would. Commanding and stubborn she may be, but curiosity was another of her defining traits.

"I want to know how you did that," she demanded as they came to a halt outside her room. _How convenient_, he mused. "Is it magic?" she asked and he noted her obvious caution at this possibility.

"You can call it that," Loki supplied.

"Do not be cryptic with me again," she said in frustration. "Answers. Now."

"Perhaps we should discuss this away from prying eyes," he said indicating her room. She did not even have the patience to argue as she pushed ahead into her room, even going so far as to bolt it behind them.

Loki breezed over to the bed and sat down leisurely, patting the spot beside him. Daenerys ignored his inviting hand, instead crossing her arms and uncrossing them once again as she leaned against her dresser. "The dagger," she reminded him.

Loki gazed at her as he contemplated his next move. "I'll make you a deal," he said with a lazy smile. He could see she already did not like where this was headed.

"No," she argued. "No deals. You won't fulfil your end. Please, just tell me!"

Loki ignored her jibe. "I will tell you all you wish to know, as I have already promised. In fact, I'll do you one better. I'll show you the full extent of my talents if you so desire. I'll even use them to help you reclaim the iron throne." Daenerys snapped to attention but she could not detect any hint of mockery in his voice.

"And why would you do that?" she asked looking up at him from between her lashes.

"Because I'm going to want something from you," he said extending a finger and running it down the smooth skin of her arm. "Further down the line, I will ask you for something."

"Don't worry," he chuckled, noting the look of suspicion on her face. "I won't ask for anything that you won't be able to give. In fact, you may find yourself quite willing when the time comes for me to collect."

"What is it that you want?" she asked, already knowing that she would not get a proper answer.

"Even I am not entirely sure as of now. But it will be a fair trade for my assistance," he assured her.  
Daenerys pushed off from her dresser, at last coming to sit beside him on the bed. She angled her body towards his in a way that would suggest she was not afraid, but he knew better.

"And what makes you think I will need your assistance?" she asked coolly, testing his patience. "I have dragons. Soon I will have an army. I may not know all of your... talents as you call them. But I'd be willing to bet that I won't need much more than what I already have."

Loki's lips pulled back into a feral grin as he raised his hand again to brush it over her shoulder. _Gods, her skin is soft_ he thought. "Perhaps you don't," he said stroking her ego. "You have all the necessary force, no doubt. But certain scenarios also require a show of stealth. Do any of your warriors or pets fit that description?" Loki let his words sink in for a moment. Her eyes narrowed at his use of the word 'pets' but she seemed to be considering his offer.

_Daenerys_

In truth she felt terrified. She loathed the thought of dark magic ever since she had seen what it could do, having lost both her husband and her son to its evil. But she didn't know what kind of magic it was that Loki possessed, if magic is what it was. The connection she had with her dragons was the very essence of magic and so its power was not evil by all standards. Who was she to judge something that she did not understand? The trouble wasn't in Loki's offer, she realised, but with Loki himself. She still knew very little of him and she was beyond certain that she could not trust him.

She told him as much and he scoffed. "I am not talking of trust, sweet Daenerys," he laughed. "I am talking of a mutually beneficial relationship which could put you one step closer to your goals. And all you have to do is not desert me in Astapor."

Daenerys was still hesitant. "How can I put my faith in an offer from a man that I do not trust?" she inquired softly. He was touching her again, his fingers tracing the hollow of her throat but she did not back away.

"Still so uncertain," he mused. Loki's fingers paused and he studied her for a moment, his calculating blue eyes searching her face. The moments stretched on and Daenerys found herself comparing his eyes to that of the winter ice she had once found in the North. She had only been there once as a child but she would always remember the chilling blue and white flakes for she saw them again now, reflected in the depths of Loki's gaze. His eyes did not waver from hers either as icy blue irises met with fiery violet ones.

"Maybe you aren't ready," he decided, finally breaking the silence that had stretched between them. Before she could ask what he meant, he snarled, "Too bad. I don't care."

Then his questing fingers seized her hair in a vice like grip and he closed the hairsbreadth between them, capturing her lips in a ferocious kiss. Before she could object, he had pushed her back on the bed as he supported himself on one arm, the other still buried in her hair. Fire ignited in her core but she remained frozen beneath his lips as they attacked hers. His mouth and skin were cool but they sent hot sizzles through her veins as she opened her mouth in a gasp. All of the air left her lungs as his tongue swept inside her mouth and she slapped her hands to his head. Instead of yanking him away from her as she had intended, her fingers threaded through his hair and tugged passionately on the black silken strands at the base.

"No more waiting," he said breathlessly when he came up for air. "The deal is done." Then he blazed a trail of kisses down her neck, eliciting more gasps from her as he palmed her collarbone. She pushed her chest against his, unaware that she was intensely rubbing her full breasts against his chest muscles through the fabric of his shirt. This earned her a growl as his lips returned to hers. This was really happening. She wondered idly if he sealed all of his deals this way but she could not bring herself to care at this moment. His hands were doing the most peculiar things to her hair, pulling tightly on the strands and then massaging her scalp, bringing her both pain and pleasure. _So, _she thought dazedly as her fire threatened to overwhelm them, _this is what it feels like to burn_.


	6. Chapter 6: Surrender

Chapter 6: Surrender

_Just gonna stand there and watch me burn,  
but that's alright because I like the way it hurts..._

_Just gonna stand there and hear me cry,  
but that's alright because I love the way you lie.  
I love the way you lie..._

(Love the Way You Lie – Eminem feat. Rihanna)

_Daenerys_

As they tumbled onto the bed, Daenerys alternated between running her fingers through Loki's liquid ink hair and fisting the material of his shirt. He made a sound in his throat before pushing off of her, only to shed his shirt faster than she would have thought possible. He discarded it onto the floor before moving to cover her body with his.

"You spoke of a deal?" she panted, feeling quite breathless as his lips latched onto her pulse point. "What do you want?"

She breathed in his scent, closing her eyes as he pushed her silver locks away from her face and slammed his lips back to hers. "Do you really need me to answer that?" he murmured against her lips as his tongue slipped past her teeth to duel with her own. "I've wanted this from the moment I was met with your scorching eyes when you pulled me from the water."

And from the way her body was reacting to his ministrations, she knew he could feel the same desire in her. His touch was gentle but his searing kiss betrayed his lust and she could tell that he longed to dominate her. Such was the way of men in this world. His lust was even more evident behind the laces of his pants and it was this more than anything that snapped her eyes open. His inordinately large arousal was pressed flush against her hip as was the rest of him and through her own haze of desire she recognised her precarious situation. This was wrong. She didn't do this. Truthfully though, she had never really wanted to up until now, not since Drogo. _Oh, Drogo_. Her lips froze beneath Loki's and she slowly but gently withdrew her fingers from his hair.

He felt the change in her for he growled in frustration, biting her lip to entice a reaction out of her. She hissed in return and he pulled her hair back so he could whisper in her ear. "No," he said harshly, "Do not think of _him_ as I touch you."

Daenerys yanked her hair from his grasp, tearing some of the strands free from her scalp as she looked him dead in the eye. 'How do you know of my thoughts?" she demanded, holding her hands against his chest to keep his skin from touching the rest of her.

"It's written all over your face," he snarled and she felt his muscles tense beneath her hands. "There will be a time when I ask you of your deceased husband, Daenerys, and I will be curious. But it is **not now**," he emphasised, his hands running down her arms to settle on her hips. He pushed his own hips forward so that she could once again feel his evident desire for her and she wriggled in discomfort.

He mistook it for eagerness and returned to kissing her. She wrestled her lips away from his with some difficulty as she gasped. "Stop! I cannot... I can't do this, I'm sorry." She attempted to get up but his palm spanned her throat and shoved her back down. His grip on her shoulder tightened and she grew angry then as her small hand extended against his face whilst her other reached for his chest and she pushed... hard.

He lost some of his momentum and he fell off her rolling to the side. "I said don't," she warned again as he raised his head, his eyes blazing fury at her. His anger dissipated and he heaved a huge sigh of frustration as he threw himself backwards onto the bed like a child. This wasn't what she expected as she eyed him apprehensively. She wasn't supposed to feel guilty. She breathed deep and ran her hands through her hair, similar to what she had done with Loki's only moments before.

How is it he could make her feel this way? She had known him only days! But then she had also met, married and fallen pregnant to Drogo inside of a fortnight. She had no choice then. Still, her feelings for Drogo did not happen overnight although she still performed her wifely duties for him, as was expected of her. But now? There were no expectations of her, no ties holding her back. Save her heart. She glanced back at Loki and saw that he had thrown an arm over his face and his mouth was twisted in a grimace.

She reached a hand over to - to what? Comfort him in some way? She wasn't quite sure but he saved her the trouble when his own hand instantly gripped hers, halting its intended path towards his shoulder. "I'd advise against touching me right now," he said, his voice strained. He pushed her hand back into her own lap as he stood from the bed.

He turned to her with an odd expression that was somewhere between disappointed and flat out murderous. "Why you fight this I cannot begin to imagine," he said as his voice shook with anger and she clasped her hands tightly in her lap, refusing to meet his gaze. "But when that spark within you is ready to finish what we started, I think you'll find it was not worth the wait."

His speech was presumptuous but she did not argue. He was right in a sense that she had no reason to fight her attraction for him. The audible slam of her door caused her to jump as she stared at the space that Loki had just vacated. Though he had placed the first move, she knew she should have stopped him in his tracks the moment he moved in for a kiss. A huge part of her hadn't wanted to stop him though. She got up from the bed, needing to occupy her hands with a task in Loki's absence. Her fingers found her brush on her bedside table and she began to comb out the tangles that had formed as a result of weeks of constant wind and sea spray.

There was of course the issue of trust but he had made it clear that trust was not what he sought. Their relationship would be a merging of the bodies, not of the heart and she found herself to be extremely tempted by the thought. Though she had not partaken in such activities before, many others did and their lives seemed the better for it. If this were to be purely physical, what had she to lose? But the smaller part of her, the part which kept her heart closed to emotions like these, fired up, issuing that same warning she had felt when she trusted that witch Mirri Maz Duur with Drogo's life. _And look how that turned out_, she thought with an aching emptiness. Although she still felt like she had nothing left to lose, she knew better than that. She truly could lose everything if she opened her heart up like that again. It may have just been pleasure and sex, but Daenerys had only ever shared that with someone she loved and she was unsure now if her heart would make the same distinction. _It's better this way_, she thought. Loki could wait. And when she found herself ready, he could decide if he still wanted to be there.

...

_Loki_

Frostgiants and Bilgesnipes! Loki threw open the door to his room and kicked it shut behind him with the heel of his boot. "Get out," he tossed at the shadow of Ser Jorah, hiding by his bed. This man had the nerve to think he could surprise the God of Lies?

Ser Jorah moved from his position by Loki's nightstand but he did not leave. "I want you to leave the Khaleesi alone," Ser Jorah began. But before he could get another word out, Loki had him up against the wall, hands gripping his shirt so tight that his knuckles were turning red.

He glared at the older man as he hefted him against the wood."Well as long as you're just dangling there," Loki growled, "listen up! Funny, I'm not used to making threats. I find I don't like it. It's quite tedious in fact." He lifted Ser Jorah's collar some more, causing the older man to grunt as his feet left the floor and his eyes widened, astounded by the younger man's sheer strength. "I like receiving threats even less. I'm more a man of action, you see. That said, if you value your life, you will heed my words."

He shook Ser Jorah for emphasis as the older man gritted his teeth. "I will go wherever I please and it is _you_ who will leave me alone. Your precious Khaleesi can take care of herself, but I'm sure you know this. It is why you care for her so, isn't it?"

Ser Jorah's face was screwed so tight in anger that Loki was sure he would pop a vein. He loosened his grip on the man and allowed him to shove off from the wall but he did not release him. "I thought so," Loki said coolly. He leaned forward to whisper cruelly in his ear. "You should know that your designs on Daenerys will never be met. Not like mine will."

Only then did he release Ser Jorah and he had to dodge as Jorah immediately took a swing at Loki. Loki smacked his second blow away and laughed in amusement when Ser Jorah drew his dagger. "If you so much as touch her," Ser Jorah threatened, waving the dagger.

"Come now, Ser Jorah, let's not fight," Loki said mockingly. "I'm beginning to like the Khaleesi and I'd hate to think how she'd feel if she knew we were arguing. She does see you as a father after all." His words sliced deep into the man and if Ser Jorah were anything but a knight, he would have pounded Loki's face into the wall right then and there.

"I can say no more than I have already said," Ser Jorah breathed angrily. "But one word from the Khaleesi, just one and you will find no shortage of men jockeying for your head. Stay away from her!" He stormed out then, leaving Loki to his thoughts. A good thing too for Loki had a rather uncomfortable bulge in his nether regions to take care of.

...

_Daenerys_

Her dragons were once again taking to the sea, flying, twisting and diving into the ocean with glee. Daenerys hair fanned out behind her with the sea breeze as she watched her dragons intently, a happy smile adorning her lips. Drogon took a particularly high plummet and emerged within seconds with his catch, searing it with hot flame before gulping it down. He landed on the ship railing as his mother approached him, pleased with his ability to hunt his own food. They had begun to take care of themselves on this journey at sea and her admiration for them only increased tenfold. She extended a hand to caress Drogon beneath his chin spikes where she knew he liked it.

"They're growing fast," Ser Jorah noted from behind her. He had joined her on deck some time ago, exiting near Loki's room where they had no doubt been bickering as they usually did.

"Not fast enough," she said regrettably. "I can't wait that long. I need an army."

Ser Jorah nodded in agreement. "We'll be in Astapor by nightfall."

Daenerys body was turned toward the horizon so he missed her roll her eyes in agitation. "Some say the Unsullied are the greatest soldiers in the world," he mused.

Daenerys whirled on him. "The greatest _slave_ soldiers in the world. The distinction means a good deal to some."

"Do those people have any better ideas about how to put you on the iron throne?" he asked reasonably.

Daenerys felt the urge to dispute her hatred for slavery some more but pushed it aside. "It's too beautiful a day to argue," she said at last.

"Why, yes Daenerys, I believe it is." Loki came to stand by Ser Jorah, giving him a wink as the knight stared him down. "Although not for some," he observed, watching as several of her Dothraki men vomited on the lower deck.

Daenerys winced softly. She had thought by now they would be past their sea sickness. It had been weeks after all. It was a good thing then that they were due to arrive in Asatapor that night where they would finally be able to rest. "Don't mock them," she snapped at Loki and Ser Jorah who astoundingly fought back a grin at Loki's jibe.

"Me?" Loki asked, giving her wide innocent eyes. Daenerys ignored him as she contemplated her dragons instead. Although she was sure her identity was no secret where they were bound, she considered keeping her dragons out of sight in the meantime. Who knew what shady characters might get the wrong idea in their head...

"Ser Jorah," she began. Ser Jorah stood to his full height, face expectant as he awaited her command. ""I need my dragons to be safe while we are in Astapor," she said, her eyes searching his. "Do you understand? They need to be protected."

Ser Jorah gave a short bow. "I will defend them with my life, Khaleesi."

"No," she said firmly. "I want you with me. I will need your counsel. What I require is for the Dothraki to stay behind. I do not think a show of force will be welcome here and I am more concerned for their safety than I am my own. I ask you not to argue with me on this."

She awaited his reply as Jorah battled his own morals against leading Daenerys into a city of boorish and manipulative slave traders with only one man as an escort. He seemed to realise her determination in this aspect for he merely sighed and nodded.

"I could also escort you," Loki supplied quietly. She expected an immediate retort from Ser Jorah however he seemed to genuinely contemplate Loki's offer.

"Can you fight?" he asked thoughtfully.

Loki sucked in a breath before hissing angrily, "Why must I go through this again? You should note that I hate repeating myself! Yes! I can fight, and quite well!" Daenerys bit her lip, grinning at his indignant outburst, curious as to Ser Jorah's reply.

"I suppose you'll be wanting your spear back then?" Ser Jorah asked bitterly and Loki quirked an eyebrow.

"Well yes, that would be the general idea."

"Retrieve it," Daenerys commanded and both men turned to stare at her. "I think it's about time we see what you've been bragging about."

...

Ten minutes later, Daenerys, Ser Jorah and several Dothraki crowded around Loki as Ser Jorah reluctantly handed over the unusual weapon. Daenerys studied it for the first time since they had pulled Loki from the water. It was quite long, as most spears were, but it had a deadly curved blade at the end, almost like a scythe except it was double edged. It also had a large, decorative azure jewel adorning the centre of the blade. When Loki's hand touched the weapon, the jewel lit up in a brilliant hue of blue, making Ser Jorah and the Dothraki retreat in surprise. _It had grown more powerful_. Loki smirked at their hesitancy but Daenerys was utterly fascinated and oddly not frightened by the power of the weapon.

"Is it magic?" she asked as she approached Loki, ignoring Ser Jorah's fleeting attempt to stop her with his arm.

"Much more than that." Loki stared hard at Daenerys as her eyes travelled up the sceptre before her. "It is power. Pure power in its rawest form."

As she stepped closer, she leaned forward, whispering. "Is your weapon as unique as you?"

Loki's eyes glinted, indicating yes. She breathed in amazement and Loki could see the deep cobalt colours of his sceptre reflected in her violet irises. Her eyes returned to his and she slowly shook her head in wonder. "Truly, I have never met a man quite like you."

Loki smiled widely, showing all of his teeth as he replied loud enough for all to hear, "There are no men like me, beautiful."

Ser Jorah stood rigid several feet away as Daenerys stepped back at last, gesturing for three of her Dothraki men to step forward, Garakh among them.

"Really? Loki asked dismissively as he eyed the three warriors. "Is that all?"  
Daenerys stared at him disbelievingly before shrugging and signalling for two more to step forward. Loki seemed satisfied. Ser Jorah handed each of them a spear of their own as they eyed Loki dangerously. Oddly enough, the Dothraki seemed less sea sick now that they had a task to focus on. Loki could not have looked more relaxed, though potentially he was more relieved that the prospects of getting thrown up on now seem pretty slim.

"Do not use the sharp end of your weapons," Daenerys warned as each man took their stance. "And no magic," she added, making Loki look thoroughly put off. "This is sparring only. Any serious injury and the assaulting man shall dual with my dragons next. First side to disarm his quarry wins."

The Dothraki circled Loki, blunt ends of their spears raised. Garakh paused and seemed to draw back from the others, eying off the competition first. Loki did not move and kept his eyes downcast, the fierce glow of the sceptre being the only indication that he was truly tuned to what was happening. One of the Dothraki lunged and Loki parried immediately, sweeping the youth's legs out from under him. A moment later another tried to take advantage of their fallen comrade and swiped at Loki's right side but Loki thrust his sceptre behind his neck and over his shoulders, blocking the Dothraki spear from ever reaching his ribs. He jerked upwards and sent the spear hurtling from the Dothraki's hands and into the sea.

Then he kicked out with his right foot as the youth on the ground attempted to gain leverage once again by aiming for Loki's legs. He tried to sweep Loki's legs similarly to what had been done to him but Loki manoeuvred his calves in such a way that the spear glanced off the floor. As the man thrust his spear again, Loki dodged and then slammed his boot down on the shaft, effectively trapping the spear between his foot and the floor. As the youth pulled futilely on his weapon, Loki shoved the blunt end of his spear into the man's side, causing him to gasp and hold his hands up in surrender as Loki bent down to yank the spear from his grasp. Holding both his sceptre and the borrowed spear now, Loki turned to the remainder of the Khalasar, having already disarmed two men.

A fierce war cry from the others had them all charging Loki at once. Daenerys made a motion to step forward, about to intervene as the group attacked him simultaneously but Ser Jorah's hand on her shoulder stopped her. She glanced back at the older man and saw that he was watching the fight with rapt attention and was seemingly unconcerned by the unfair odds. It took but moments, and no established hit on Loki, before he stood victorious over the panting men, all of them disarmed. He was now holding four spears in his hand which he threw dramatically onto the floor for emphasis as he leaned on his own sceptre for support. He had neither sweat nor a flush to indicate that he had needed to put any effort into the fight whatsoever. Daenerys could not believe it. _Amazing_. Garakh looked every part the dark warrior he was as he spat unceremoniously onto the deck, glaring at Loki.

"Beginner's luck," Ser Jorah muttered unconvincingly. Daenerys felt an unfamiliar burst of pride within her although her own men had lost the spar. Loki had after all only fought and defeated her men as a demonstration that he was capable of protecting _her_. The Dothraki stood on shaky feet, unnerved by their easy defeat and unsure of their next move. They were unused to the process of **not** cutting off one another's braids when they lost a fight, or offering up their lives in penance.

Daenerys had forbidden such barbaric acts when she became Khaleesi in her own right after Drogo's death. She had seen quite enough throats slit, intestines spilt and braids torn to last her a lifetime. She had informed them all that it was far easier to practice and become better warriors as a Khalasar if they did not kill each other during their own training sessions. So far the Dothraki seemed content sparring amongst themselves but that did not stop their wounded pride when they were disarmed by a total stranger. Daenerys looked to Ser Jorah who appeared to look rather grim at Loki's victory.

"What do you think?" she prodded, glancing at Loki's rather satisfied grin.

Ser Jorah pulled his lips back in a grimace. "I think he should come with us," he lamented in defeat. "He's a great warrior. And he'll give us the edge that we need to intimidate the traders we encounter in Astapor. They may think twice before double crossing us if they believe we have a sorcerer in our midst."

Loki's grip on his sceptre tightened and he scowled as he retreated to the steps. Daenerys turned to follow Loki as Ser Jorah bent to collect the discarded spears and the Dothraki disbanded, preparing the ship for their approaching dock into Astapor. She watched as he stuck the sceptre into the floor, lodging it into place and turned to regard her. "Satisfied?" he asked as she stood before him.

"Impressive," she agreed. "I must give you credit for not using any unfair magical abilities."

"Must you say it like that?" he asked annoyed.

Daenerys stared at him confused. "Say it like what? Magic?" she questioned.

"Yes," he gritted. "Saying magic makes it sound like child's play."

"You said that's what it was!" she argued. "And what do you mean child's play? Dark magic is no pursuit for children!"

"It is not dissimilar to magic, I suppose," he growled. "But my abilities are beyond magic. They're power. They're a part of who I am. _What _I am."

"And what are you?" Her eyes flashed with fire, flames dancing just beyond the pupils.

"Where I'm from, you could consider me a deity. Such is my power." Loki seemed lost in thought as he stared at a spot beyond Daenerys' shoulder, no doubt thinking of his home.

Daenerys wanted to roll her eyes at his arrogance but froze at his next words, "So is yours." He fixed his gaze on hers and moved to step closer but stopped as she backed away.

"My what?" she asked cautiously. She was trying to keep a safe distance from Loki, lest he touch her and invoke the fire that his contact seemed to bring.

"I told you not too long ago that your name holds power, Daenerys Stormborn. And so do you. When you take this world, your power will increase tenfold. You will be so revered," he said huskily, licking his lips.

She felt herself quiver at his words but then steeled herself for what was to come. She was Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Khaleesi of the Dothraki Horse Lords! She was the Mother of Dragons, for goodness sake! She would not be simpering girl she had been when her brother was still alive. It was obvious that Loki was trying to seduce her, but how to respond? Drogo had always taken control and it was only when she took charge that she had gained his respect in the bedroom. She stood a little straighter as it dawned on her that two could play this game. She had done it before... in a way. This was just the prelude, and she had a few tricks of her own.

"You say that like you've already seen it," she murmured, mirroring Loki's husky voice, gazing at the spear which had once again begun to spark in neon blue colours.

"I have," Loki said coming to stand directly in front of her now. "It will come to pass. I know it. And I'm going to be right there." 

You are?" she asked uneasily as he moved to trap her between his arms, placing his hands on either side of the wall so he could look down upon her. She shivered involuntarily and he seemed to like this reaction.

"Yes. Do you know why?" he hummed against her ear, resting his cheek against the soft tresses of her hair.

She shook her head vigorously, her hair becoming partially stuck to his lips.

"Because you want me there," he breathed harshly. "Imagine it, Daenerys. Imagine all the things we could do together. What we could accomplish. We could bring this world to its knees."

"Why would we do that?" she whispered, letting her gaze drift to his lips. Her eyes were enormous.

"Because we can," Loki said simply. He twirled a lock of her hair around his finger, admiring its silver sheen. "Surrender to me, Daenerys. Surrender. I know you want to."

She pressed closer to him then then, smiling internally when she felt his sharp intake of breath.  
Her lips ghosted over his own and he waited for her to press those soft, sinful lips to his. He closed his eyes as he felt her breath fanning against his chin.

"No," she said softly and her next words would haunt him in his dreams. **"**_**Not yet**_**." **The she laughed, pushed off from him and danced beyond his reach. Her lustful taunt however only furthered his resolve. _Soon, _he mouthed at her. Her luscious lips curved into a smile which said, _Count on it_. 


	7. Chapter 7: Steam

Chapter 7: Steam

Slaver's Bay became visible at dusk, the waves lapping harshly against the dishevelled walls of the city of Astapor. Daenerys' heart leapt as she saw the golden idol of a dragon, perched atop the gates and looking every bit as fierce as the real thing. Excited squawks sounded behind her as Drogon, Viserion and Rhaegal all clambered forward on the deck, eyeing the false dragon. Daenerys smiled briefly before regaining her composure as she gestured for Garakh to fetch their cages. They would be anchoring soon, but not in Astapor's docks. Their presence had already been noted and a small boat rowed out to meet them. It would not bode well for the Slave Masters of Astapor to have easy access to her dragons in the meantime.

...

_Loki_

Loki tucked his sceptre carefully under his arm as Ser Jorah and Daenerys stepped forward and were greeted by the High Slave Master. He eyed the city sceptically, astounded that aside from the legions of soldiers, Astapor had very poor defences indeed. The Unsullied army must truly be something since the city itself was old and crumbling. The only decor that remained fairly untarnished was ironically the large golden dragon statue which marked the Western entrance.

Loki's attention returned to the matter at hand as he caught the words of an ancient dialogue. This master did not speak the common tongue as his company did and Loki noted the pretty mocha woman who hastened to translate his every word. They began to walk and Loki kept a wary eye, earning a reassuring smile from Daenerys as she looked back. He gave her a curt nod and gestured for her to keep going as he listened half-heartedly to the slave woman's translation. Not that he really needed it. If Loki focused hard enough, any language could be interpreted through the mind. All he need do is listen carefully to the man's thoughts and their meaning could be surmised quite easily. Loki had his attention elsewhere however and was intent on this transaction going smoothly for it would not only benefit Daenerys but him as well.

The rich tongue of Valaryian reached his ears as Loki scanned the perimeter, though he hardly need bother since they encountered only civilian slaves as they trekked along the walls bordering the city.

"The Unsullied have stood here for a day and night with no food or water," the slave woman translated as they neared a domed balcony, guarded by the Unsullied warriors. "They will stand until they drop. Such is their obedience."

Loki did not miss the way Daenerys' shoulders hitched at her words as she eyed the slave master coldly. A few dozen Unsullied men immediately parted to make way for the guests, spears held aloft and straight.

"They may suit my needs," Daenerys voiced, though she sounded doubtful as they passed through the rows of Unsullied. "Tell me of their training."

The dark woman relayed Daenerys' request to the master before giving her reply. "They begin their training at five. Every day they drill from dawn to dusk until they have mastered the short sword, the shield and the three spears." Daenerys was listening intently but Loki could tell that she fought to remain impassive at the woman's next words. "Only one boy in four survives this rigorous training."

Loki's grip tightened on his spear as he looked at the slave master in disgust. Far be it for him to pity any humans but even for Loki, this bordered on the barbaric. The torture and murder of a child in any realm was the gravest offence. Children were defenceless and quite naive to the brutalities of the world. And it should stay that way.

"Their discipline and loyalty are absolute," the dark woman continued gravely. "They fear nothing."

"Even the bravest men fear death," Ser Jorah intoned, shooting Loki a subtle glance as he turned to the slave master. Loki raised his eyebrows at Ser Jorah and tapped his spear in a mocking threat.

After a brief conversation in which the slave master seemed to chastise the dark woman, she answered, "My master says the Unsullied are not men. Death means nothing to them."

Loki was not buying the slave speech as he scoffed under his breath. Ser Jorah was right. Every man feared death. Or at least every _mortal_ man did. He watched as the slave master muttered in Valaryian and rolled back his sleeves, stepping forward.

"He begs you attend this carefully, Your Grace," the woman addressed Daenerys. At the slave master's command, one soldier stepped forward. The master pushed his spear and sword aside impatiently. Retrieving the Unsullied's dagger from his belt, the master cut through his leather chest strap, exposing the right, top-half of his chest. Loki heard Daenerys' sharp intake of breath. It was no mystery as to what would happen next.

"Tell the good master, there is no need!" Daenerys implored. Her words were cut short as the master ignored her plea and sliced through the tender flesh of the man's chest, cutting clean through the areola. Daenerys looked away with revulsion as the master removed the man's nipple and cast it into the dirt. Blood sluiced down the man's front but otherwise the Unsullied made no motion.

"My master points out that men don't need nipples," the dark woman translated, looking at Daenerys with sympathy.

"I thought he said they weren't men," Loki said sarcastically, ignoring the distasteful piece of flesh mere metres from his feet. The woman gave a weak smile but the master missed it as he cocked his head at Loki curiously. His eyes darted to Loki's sceptre and Loki felt somewhat smug as he hefted it menacingly. The man's lip curled as he eyed the spear again but he did not appear afraid. _Idiot._ All the same, Loki could hardly disagree with the appeal. This slave master had the right idea. It was, after all, what Loki had hoped to achieve with Earth at one point. An entire race, obedient to your every whim and willing to fight and serve you without question. There was no other way save for enslaving them. Whilst Loki did prefer the idea of courting fear so as to gain power, he knew this could easily be achieved with an army such as this. The master dismissed the Unsullied and the soldier stepped back into line, as the master's gaze returned to Daenerys.

"To win his shield, an Unsullied must go to the Slave Marts with a silver mark, find a newborn and kill it before its mother's eyes. This way, Master Kraznys says we make certain there is no weakness left in them," the woman informed Daenerys grimly. Daenerys eyes flared with hatred and Loki could sense that she was moments from snapping.

"You take a babe from its mother's arms, kill it as she watches and pay for her pain with a silver coin?" she demanded heatedly. The man sneered at Daenerys as the dark woman translated and rolled his eyes. His reply given by the woman left Daenerys seeing red.

"Master Kraznys would like you to know that the silver is payed to the baby's owner, not the mother." Loki glanced at Daenerys to see her reaction but her composure remained astoundingly firm, even as the slave master gave her a knowing smile.

"How many do you have to sell?" she asked, her gaze poised on the master.

The man held up eight fingers.

"Eight thousand," the dark woman confirmed. Loki could see the wheels in Daenerys' mind turning as she comprehended how many murdered infants were needed to produce this army. "My master asks that you please hurry, the dark woman continued. "Many other buyers are interested."

With that, the master swept off without a word and the dark woman followed obediently. Daenerys shared a look with Ser Jorah before locking eyes with Loki. He could tell she was judging whether it was worth it or not. Loki knew what his decision would be. The question was, what would _hers_ be?

...

"Eight thousand dead babies." Daenerys closed her eyes in anguish as they traipsed back toward the slave markets.

"The Unsullied are a means to an end," Ser Jorah said sadly.

Loki scoffed for the second time that day as he gazed back toward the podium where they had left the Unsullied. "Means to an end? They're a loaded weapon awaiting the command to discharge. The perfect army," Loki said reverently. "You could conquer entire nations with these soldiers."

Daenerys looked at him reproachfully. "And once I own them, what will that make me? What will I become once I own an army of slaves?" Daenerys said wistfully.

"Queen," Loki answered simply. "You will be a Queen of this continent and every other." Ser Jorah shifted uncomfortably but Loki could tell he agreed with him.

"This isn't the way I wanted to do it," she said softly.

"Do you think the Unsullied are any happier here, Daenerys?" Ser Jorah intoned as they walked along the bridge steering toward the markets. "They are far better off serving you."

"Sentiment," Loki sneered as he mocked Ser Jorah. "Honestly, do you ever get tired of hearing your own simpering speeches? Who cares if-"

"Enough," Daenerys ordered though she didn't sound all that angry. She was glancing at something behind Loki and he turned to see what had caught her gaze.

A young girl playing with a ball in the dirt had captured her attention and she smiled invitingly at Daenerys. She bounced the ball in her hands as she stood staring at the three of them. Warning bells went off in Loki's head as Daenerys smiled back playfully, following the girl with intrigue.

"Daenerys," he warned but she ignored him, descending the steps into the bayside slave market. The girl suddenly whirled and began weaving back through the crowd, though always keeping Daenerys in her sights.

There was something off about her. Loki could sense darkness in her that no child ought to reflect in their aura as he followed close behind with Ser Jorah in tail. Loki's nose also smelled rotting corpses and old spices, scents which he was sure did not belong on a child, not even a slave girl. The girl hid behind several wicker baskets before giggling and fleeing once again, darting in between boxes, barrels and nets. Daenerys laughed as she watched, keeping pace with her. Loki's eyes narrowed as he let his Frost Giant senses take over and to anyone else it would look as those his irises had adopted a red hue. Seeing far more than any human eye, Loki witnessed an evil being standing before him, mimicking the part of a little girl but in truth something much more foul.

His eyes returned to normal and he growled in warning but the evil child was already rolling the ball toward Daenerys. She caught the ball at her feet as the girl made a twisting motion, indicating for Daenerys to open it. Before she could react however, Loki seized her arm forcing her to drop the ball as Ser Jorah shouted in alarm. A dark movement in his periphery caught his eye and Loki spun to see a man in a charcoal cloak moving to intercept Daenerys also. He shoved the man toward Ser Jorah who acted immediately, wrestling with the man and successfully restraining him. Loki turned just in time to see a putrid green scorpion emerge from the ball, toxic tail poised as it scampered eagerly toward Daenerys who had fallen to the deck.

Loki's spear came down so hard on the creature that he lodged its lethal tip halfway through the wood of the boardwalk. The scorpion twitched and burst in a mess of mucky goo, much to Loki's disgust. He bent toward Daenerys intent on helping her up however the scuffle behind him climaxed as the cloaked stranger broke free of Ser Jorah and raced toward Daenerys. Loki yanked his spear free and stood on the defensive but he needn't have worried as the man ran straight past him toward the evil presence in the shape of a child. The child gave a rattling snarl, angered that its task had failed and moved to the water. Loki, and Ser Jorah ran after the man but they were too late as the little girl jumped into the water and disappeared. Loki's nostrils flared as he smelled the decaying bodies again only now he caught it downwind. He hissed as he turned and saw the child staring down at them now from a roof several yards away. It gave them one last long look of venom before disappearing altogether.

"The warlocks," Daenerys said, comprehension dawning on her features as Ser Jorah helped her to her feet.

"Come again?" Loki was staring hard at the man who had in effect also attempted to save Daenerys' life. He appeared old and weathered but he was a stronger than average warrior and he had bested Ser Jorah. Although that wasn't saying much.

"The warlocks," Ser Jorah repeated. "We had a run in with some dark sorcerers a few weeks back."

"And you neglected to mention this until now when we are out in the open?" Loki demanded harshly.

"We thought they were dead," Daenerys explained. "Burned by my dragons." She turned then to the cloaked man as he stood several feet away. "You tried to save me. Thank you, Ser."

"The honour is mine, my Queen," the man admonished, removing his hood at last.

Recognition was evident in the eyes of Ser Jorah as Loki and Daenerys waited for his introduction.  
"Do you know this man?" Daenerys questioned Ser Jorah, looking confused as her eyes darted between the two.

"I know him," Ser Jorah admitted though he looked far from happy about it. "He's one of the greatest fighters the seven kingdoms have ever seen. And is the Lord Commander of Robert Baratheon's Kings Guard."

The name meant nothing to Loki but he could see it had some effect on Daenerys as she stared at Ser Jorah with widening eyes.

"King Robert is dead," the man said stepping forward. _Ah, so he had served a prior ruler on the Iron Throne. So many pretence rulers and false gods in this world_ Loki thought sceptically.

"I have been searching for you, Daenerys Stormborn," the man admitted. "To ask your forgiveness. I swore to protect your family. I failed them."

He bowed low, elbow extended on his knee as he pled with Daenerys. "I am Barristan Selmy, Kings Guard to your father. Allow me to join your Queen's Guard and I will not fail you again."

"Yes, well, as regrettable as that is," Loki snapped. "You can see that we are not short of company and although your efforts are commendable, we are perfectly capable of defending Daenerys ourselves."

Ser Barristan looked alarmed that Loki had spoken for her but Daenerys could give no other argument to the contrary. Loki smirked. It was clear she still harboured some resentment towards the Kings Guards that had allowed her family to suffer and die.

"I know a safe place," Ser Barristan bargained when no one spoke up. "I can offer you secure lodgings for the night. That is, if you intend to stay?"

Loki could see Daenerys was torn. It was obvious they would need lodgings for the night since the warlocks probably knew of their ship's location by now, but could the man be relied upon?

"He did save my life," Daenerys voiced quietly, looking at Loki who stepped forward to obscure Ser Barristan from her view.

"No I did," Loki pointed out angrily. "He tried to play a hero."

"It's my call," Daenerys said, voice low enough so that only him and Ser Jorah could hear. Loki's face twisted in irritation but knew there was no point in arguing. He had agreed to follow her lead in this instance. He stepped aside as she approached Ser Barristan, hand going to his elbow and urging him to stand. "I accept your offer of service, Ser Barristan. Now can you tell us where we might make safe harbour for the night?"

...

Safe harbour as it turned out was under the city, directly beneath the gold dragon idol itself. Narrow tunnels and guarded entrances ensured that it was hard to get in, but there were multiple exits and secret escapes in case one needed to get out. It was the remains of an old castle, buried and then built upon over the many centuries. Many of the rooms were still intact and if the right hands were bribed as they were in this case, one could set up comfortable accommodations in one of the wealthier rooms for the night. There was more to Astapor than even vast armies it seemed. Perhaps this is why it had never been breached because outsiders were left to wonder about the many dark and dangerous secrets hidden within the city. A shame that it had fallen into such disrepair. Astapor was likely a crown jewel in its day.

They set Daenerys up in a room that was brilliantly lit by beacon fires, adorning it as best they could to suit her needs. Once settled, they sent for the Dothraki and her dragons all the while keeping a watchful eye out for the return of the sorcerers. If Loki was to hazard a guess, he would predict that the sorcerers had used a powerful form of astral projection, much like himself. Unlike him though, most forms of astral projection, particularly with mortals, left their corporeal body vulnerable. He doubted therefore that they were in the immediate vicinity and had probably expended their entire energy on the illusion of the little girl. Where they had acquired the scorpion however was a mystery although Loki had a feeling they may have used someone on the inside to acquire it. He would have been impressed by how powerful these sorcerers were if he didn't know the limitation of their abilities. They would be unable to launch another attack any time soon, he was certain of it. Their illusion also had only limited physical form and they evidently could not sustain more than one illusion at a time over such a distance. Still, the distance with which they had projected the image was impressive if a little unimaginative. Why not project a cute animal for instance? Women were putty for baby critters.

Loki would have to make short work of the sorcerers once he traced the imprint of magic that they had left behind. He pondered this now as he spread himself out on the dark satin bed that was situated in his room. He wondered if other royalty had ever stayed here. It was fairly luxurious for an old underground castle. It made one think about what the accommodations were like above ground. Surely the masters were surrounded in similar luxury whilst the slaves were forced to sleep in hovels? Since arriving in Hygard, Loki found himself barely able to sleep no matter the conditions. Not that his body truly needed it but sleep for all beings helped to maintain one's focus. And whilst he wasn't at his full strength capacity, it was a terrible hindrance that he struggled to doze off. His powers would return in full soon enough however as most of them already had so he tried not to dwell on it. He just had to be patient.

A soft knock on his door shook him from his thoughts and he sighed in frustration, placing a hand to cover his eyes as he refused to move from his place on the bed. The knocking came again and Loki's fist pounded onto the bed. "What?" he called in irritation.

There was a pause and then, "It's me."

Loki slowly sat up surprised and mortified that he had greeted Daenerys in such a manner.

Should I come back or...?" she trailed off.

Loki stared at the door. _No way in hell_.

...

_Daenerys_

There was a beat and then Loki appeared in the doorway, his hair slightly tousled and looking the most vulnerable that she had ever seen him. He was also, she noted, quite shirtless.  
"Oh," she blushed taking in his attire. "I'm sorry-it was early and I thought that... never mind!"

She made to go back the way she had come when Loki's hand gripped her arm, pulling her gently into the room and shutting the door behind him. He pressed her against the doorframe, leaning in so close that she found it hard to breathe. She was reminded of a couple of days before when he had touched her in a similar way. Only now, they were even more alone.

"What do you want, Daenerys?" he breathed against her neck, leaning his arms against the door and nuzzling her collarbone.

"Why do you call me that?" she blurted. Loki stopped his movements and raised his head to meet her sincere eyes.

"Daenerys?" he asked and she swallowed as she nodded.

"Why do you not call me Khaleesi as everyone else does?" Her tone wasn't accusatory, merely curious. He fully stood off of her then, raking a hand back through his black silken locks and Daenerys found herself aching to run her hands through them again.

"Where I come from, the most respect you can show someone is to refer to them by their birth title," he answered chidingly but gently, as if reprimanding a child. "There is power in a name, Daenerys. Do not be so quick to trade it for noble titles. The beauty of your name cannot be appreciated if it is not voiced as it should be."

She stared at him for a moment, letting his words sink in before she did something that surprised them both. She leaned forward and captured his lips in a passionate kiss. Loki was too slow to respond, only returning the kiss mere milliseconds before she yanked herself away. Loki looked as stunned as she felt.

"What was that for?" he asked, astonished. Daenerys wasn't sure herself so she instead answered his first question, namely why she had come to see him in the first place.

"I wanted to thank you," she admitted, readjusting her nightdress which had dipped a little too low during their brief moment of passion. Loki's eyes darted to her fingers as they deftly fastened the laces there. "For today. I may not have seemed that grateful at the time, but I am. I really am."

Loki looked amused then, returning to his usual cocky self. "And you thought this was the best way to show your appreciation?" he asked slyly. "Not that I mind but you could show me in other ways."  
She slapped his arm playfully but he moved closer, his face suddenly serious.

"We do have unfinished business, you and I," he murmured huskily. She hesitated for all but a second and he took full advantage of that moment. He recaptured her lips with his own, pressing her back against the door as she moaned softly against his mouth, moving her hands to his shoulders as she held on tightly. Their tongues duelled for dominance and his hands slid to her hips, earning a squeal from her as he hefted her up the smooth wood. She was forced to wrap her legs around his waist to maintain her balance as he savagely attacked her mouth. The kiss grew more passionate and he stopped pressing her so hard as he gently moved them away from the door, towards his bed.

He carried her to the mattress, falling onto it rather ungracefully and positioned her beneath him so that he could pull back from her lips and gaze directly into her fiery violet orbs. Her dark lashes contrasted against her pale skin and hair and Loki noticed the small teardrops sticking to her eyes. He leaned down, kissing each check directly below the tears before leaning his forehead against hers. "Daenerys do you want this?" he asked sincerely. She gazed up at him in a haze of her own lust, unsure of why he was asking. "Are you sure about this?" he pressed when she offered no response.

Daenerys didn't understand. Was _he _not sure? When she felt the evidence of his desire against her belly though, she knew with all certainty that she wanted this. She had never wanted anything more. And so did he. He could barely contain himself and she knew then that he really did care for her somewhat. She felt certain that he was used to taking what he wanted. But he was giving her a choice. 

She nodded her head vigorously and opened her arms to the man atop her. That was all he needed. Loki's hands ripped straight through the centre of her nightdress, leaving her bare and exposed from the waist up. She could see him eyeing her full breasts as his hands gripped the sheets on either side of her. He groaned as he bent his head to one glorious mound and sucked the small, pebbled bud into his mouth. She choked on her own gasp as his heated tongue swept over taut nipple before sucking on it firmly. Liquid heat pooled in her groin as her breast grew numb in pleasure. She wanted to tear at his hair but he must have sensed this for he grasped both of her tiny wrists in one large hand and pinned them above her head. He continued to suckle to the point that Daenerys was about to beg him to stop when he released her breast. No sooner had she breathed her relief when he lavished the same attention upon her other breast until both of them were full and swollen with need. She writhed against him, still attempting to yank her hands free but he wasn't moving an inch.

He moved to her neck now, sucking and licking her neck just skilfully enough so as not to leave evidence of their activities but still leaving her wanting more. Frustrated she leaned forward, her spine bending up in a rather awkward position – but one that she had been taught to maintain by Drogo long ago – and pecked Loki's exposed nipple. His lips froze in the hollow of her neck and she repeated the action before giving it a soft gentle kiss, drawing it ever so slightly into her mouth. Loki hissed in outright pleasure as he pulled back staring at her in wonder and cocking a pleased eyebrow at her. She moved further still, so that his hand was now pinning her hands _behind_ her back rather than above it and breathed fully, letting her breasts rise and fall against his chest in a taunting manner. His icy blue eyes lit up with delight as she kissed him once again full on the mouth. This was heaven.

_Loki_

By all that was holy, she could move. Knowing that she was flexible now gave him an idea. He smirked as he gripped her hips once again, lifting them so that he was standing on the bed and she was wrapped around his waist. He pressed her against the wall, and slowly drew the tattered remains of her nightdress off her body, exposing her womanhood to his eyes at last. She gave him a questioning look at this unorthodox position when quite inexplicably he used one hand to shove down his silken pants until they slid the rest of the way down unaided. Her eyes widened to epic proportions as she was met with the size of his erect cock. He smirked as she seemed to look concerned for a moment as to whether it would fit. _Silly dragon_, he though laughing softly. _We were made for this._

His phallus was thick and smooth and oddly enough seemed to have a mystical blue tone to it. _Damn_. Better not alarm her with that particular part of his anatomy yet. Loki concentrated his efforts into not morphing into his Frost Giant self so his skin would not grow cold to touch. His penis resumed a normal colour as he used the fire of her own skin to warm him and keep the blood flowing in his groin at scorching temperatures. He lifted her legs from around his waist then, placing her ankles above his shoulders and supporting her weight entirely against the wall so that she was almost folded in half. She did not seem to mind however and he praised whatever muscles that let her maintain the position. He would reward her for it. Her hands pressed to the front of his chest, waiting for his next move. He rocked against her then, using the momentum of the bed to bounce the head of his cock against her entrance and he saw the look of dawning comprehension in her face as she realised now why he had her like this. He thanked the powers that he did not have to go too gently since it was not her first time and he could take her at a pace that belied his godlike nature.

As he pressed the head of his cock within her folds, he was completely devoid of breath as her heat robbed him of every coherent thought. He didn't know how he could have gone on for so long, not knowing what it was like to take a dragon. He didn't think he could ever go back. He looked to see that Daenerys was holding her breath as her body adjusted to the intrusion and realised that his size might still prove a problem for her. 

"This won't be gentle," he gritted to Daenerys as he eased himself in. "I can't guarantee that it won't hurt." He expected her to whimper but instead, she squeezed his biceps, nails digging in until they drew blood. "

Stop talking," she whispered. "I'm ready."

That was all he needed to hear before he slammed himself into the hilt. Daenerys cried out, both from the brief and sharp pain but also from the feeling of fullness that he incited. Loki held himself there for a moment, relishing in her tight sheath before he started to move. He was met with some minor resistance since he was so large and she was so tight but the lubrication from her wet channel soon eased his passage. He was torn between enjoying a slow and torturous pace or just rutting into her relentlessly. He knew he could withhold himself for a while so he chose to set a fast pace, earning encouraging mewls and whimpers from the woman he was buried within.

As his hips pounded into her again and again, Daenerys felt the faint stirrings of an orgasm welling up in her lower belly as Loki bounced her body against his cock. Her breasts jiggled with each raw thrust and Loki found himself mesmerised by them. His buttocks tightened as he propelled himself into her harder, hovering on the balls of his feet so that he was thrusting up and into her. She used her strong thigh muscles to bring him closer to her body with each thrust, increasing the friction and pleasure for both of them. This faster pace had him rubbing directly against her sensitive bud and Daenerys had only seconds before she came hard, her muscles clutching around Loki as she gasped his name. Still, he held himself back and she cried out as his pounding prolonged the orgasm drawing it out as she milked his cock.

Loki couldn't hold on much longer as he pulled her back down to the bed, still buried deep within her. Loki could feel his orgasm approaching but was determined to make her come at least once more. Without saying a word, he eased her onto her stomach, pulling out briefly so she could get comfortable as he pulled her ass up to be level with his groin, intending to take her doggy style. She seemed to tense up though, even through her haze of desire, as she looked at him over her shoulder and shook her head. "I want to see your eyes," she panted. "I want to see your face as you come apart." Loki could hardly argue with that. He instead slipped off the bed so that her legs were dangling and he was standing. The bed really was the perfect height for this as he was level with his target. He then grabbed her knees, holding them under the crook of her legs and slid back in, watching her face as he took her again. For someone who claimed to want to see his face, she seemed to have no objection to closing her eyes in ecstasy.

His thrusting soon began to increase in tempo so that she was sliding along the bed and messing up the sheets. She leaned up then so that he was completely supporting her weight once again as he pounded into her and she sucked softly behind his ear. He grunted and leant against the bed, pressing her into it with his feet still barely on the floor, unable to keep up his momentum for much longer. He groaned softly as he felt himself nearing his peak. To his astonishment Daenerys met him thrust for thrust even as she neared her second orgasm. His own relief trembled in his balls and he felt his already enlarged dick swell within her as his seed built up in his shaft. Her sheath became impossibly tight and he fought to maintain his thrusts for just a few seconds longer. Then with a hoarse cry he was jetting into her, spurts of hot semen streaming forth as she too reached orgasm. She gasped as she felt his hot seed fill her completely and she saw stars as his cock twitched and spurted within her.

He collapsed on top of her, utterly spent but no doubt pleased with his efforts. As both fought for breath, Loki brushed a lock of hair away from her face, panting heavily. "So," he gasped. "That's what happens when fire meets ice." Daenerys could barely manage a nod, too exhausted to grasp his full meaning as she slowly drifted off into oblivion.


	8. Chapter 8: The Way of Fire

**I apologise for the wait! I haven't forgotten. So I've made it an extra long chapter! Thank you so much for the review nightmareofcat. It certainly helps when someone knows their stories are appreciated **

Chapter 8: The Way of Fire

_Daenerys_

It was incessant flapping and smoky breath that woke her. Daenerys shifted in the warm cocoon of sheets that cradled her body. As she opened her eyes, blinking sleepily, two things became immediately apparent to her. One: she was back in her own room, her dragon's restlessness having woken her and two; Loki was no longer sprawled beside her. She supposed she shouldn't feel surprised by this fact and oddly enough she was grateful. If she had awoken next to him, she would have had to stage a sneak out. Worse still, if she was caught, she would then have to explain her presence in Loki's room in the first place. She gave a soft yawn, stretching and sitting up.

She was not concerned about the time since her dragons were better than any rooster, refusing to let her sleep too long past sunrise. Her babies had begun to grow restless as she slept, stretching their wings as they waited and, in doing so, had roused her. Drogon chattered happily, nosing under her elbow for a morning hug as she smiled groggily at him, rubbing her eyes. Rhaegal and Viseryion squawked playfully and pounced on the bed, eager for some early affection as well and Daenerys yelped, having to grab the sheets to keep from tumbling out of the bed. As her dragons slowly calmed, she motioned for them to wait as she got ready, intending to let them out for a morning flight.

She dressed quickly, pondering her actions and the potential consequences of the night before. Loki had taken her again before she fell asleep completely and it was just as mind-blowing if not more so the second time. Whilst Daenerys had come to tolerate sex with Drogo over the time, this was the first time she had actually enjoyed sex with a partner. Loki was unselfish in his ministrations and seemed to take pleasure even from satisfying her. It had been amazing and she certainly had no regrets... but what now? She had no qualms of repeating such an evening as she contemplated her attire in her dressing mirror, but knew that such endeavours would likely have to wait, at least until they were clear of Astapor for now.

Meanwhile, her night with Loki had proven resourceful in more ways than one. During their throes of passion and amid their whispers of seduction, Daenerys had had an epiphany. She knew she could play the Slave Master like a harp, as Loki had demonstrated her own power to her last night. Her feminine wiles could prove useful if she could use them to an extent, playing the part of an 'ignorant whore of a Westerner' as the Master Kraznys had so labelled her. Her blood boiled as she recalled how the slave master had addressed her so, completely oblivious to the fact that despite the dark woman who acted as interpreter, Daenerys could understand his every word. She knew the Valaryian language as well as the common tongue and she fought to maintain her furious composure with every insult he hurled at her and her company.

A soft rapping at her door had Daenerys securing her dress laces quickly as she made herself decent for her visitor. Expecting it to be Ser Jorah, she opened the door rather formally only to find Loki staring at her with a wicked smile. He stepped inside without so much as a 'good morning' shut the door behind him and pressed Daenerys against it, all in one motion. His swift kiss left her breathless, but it was over just as quickly as it began. She stared at him through half closed lashes as he pecked her once, twice more on the lips and leaned his forehead against hers. "You were amazing," he breathed as he closed his eyes, evidently referring to last night. The surprised snorts of her dragons had her grinning and she shushed them as they grew more excited by the exchange between her and Loki.

"Hmm," she sounded thoughtful as she retuned her gaze to Loki's. "And yet I woke alone."

Loki opened his eyes to stare at her. "Are you angry?" he asked cautiously. Daenerys shook her head and he seemed to relax a little. "I just thought it would raise more questions than you'd be willing to answer."

"Do not be so concerned. I am Queen, you know. I can do as I wish."

Loki's devilish grin returned. "You didn't seem to mind taking orders last night," he whispered slyly. "In fact, I even recall some begging..."

Daenerys clapped a hand over his mouth, silencing him with an outraged look. "Do not address me so lewdly. You may have known me intimately last night, but it shall stay between us. It is yours and my secret alone. Do I make myself clear?"

Loki removed her hand from his mouth, grasping it firmly as she tried to pull away. He did not look angry but he spoke very carefully. "I'm not one to kiss and tell," he said stroking small circles with his thumb as his fingers encircled her wrist. "As I understand it, the universal law is what happens in the bedroom stays in the bedroom. But I won't apologise for the way I treat what is mine."

Daenerys lifted her chin stubbornly. "I'm not _yours_."

"You are," he said as if this were the end of the discussion. He placed a finger under her chin, tilting it up as he placed a soft kiss against her lips again. "And above all else, I protect what is mine."

She felt her heart tremble at his words and she pressed a hand over his chest. "You'll protect me?" she asked softly, her fingers quivering ever so slightly against his chest as his own heart beat wildly. It was an astounding thing, to have so delicate an organ as the heart in so lethal a warrior such as Loki.

"I swear it," he vowed, and he meant it. Daenerys had come to mean much more to him than even he could have realised.

"Then there is something I need you to do for me."

...

_Loki_

It didn't take much to source out the dark woman who had translated on behalf of the masters the day before. While Daenerys, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan toured the wall and the array of slaves they had strung there, Loki sought out the woman who could tell him more of Astapor's underground. He waited patiently for her to emerge from the masters' chambers, looking rather disgusted as she pulled her dress sleeve back up.

"They do take some rather uncivil liberties don't they?" She jumped, startled by the closeness of his voice and hastened to avert her eyes, bowing quickly.

"My lord."

"Stand," he told her, bored. She immediately got up, meeting his gaze nervously. He eyed her rather dishevelled appearance and tutted. "Did they hurt you?" he asked, surprised to find himself asking.

The woman stared at him and slowly shook her head. "They... they never go too far. They know I will fetch a higher price eventually when I'm... sold."

Loki's temper flared hot and his knuckles turned a faint hint of blue. "Is that so? And pray tell, what is too far?"

The woman looked at him. "They only ever touch me. Just touching. I cannot be bought if I am defiled."

Loki eyes roved her face, searching for signs of weakness but finding only steely resolve. This woman was strong despite her demure act. He smiled. "I see. Well, I shan't keep you long. My lady asks that I speak with you. I need to know all that you know of Astapor's underground."

"Ser?" she asked, clearly confused.

"The castle. The underground palace."

Her expression changed and she glanced around fearfully. "I don't know what you mean," she stammered very unconvincingly.

Loki ran a finger down the column support to his right. "The castle, my dear. Let's not play dumb. It is buried mere metres beneath our feet. We stayed there last night in point of fact, thanks to a well informed man in our company."

The woman looked at him then as she pursed her lips thoughtfully. "It was kept a secret in case Astapor should be invaded," she said at last. "Few know of it although gold will get you quite far in this city."

"Does it lead beyond the city walls?" he asked, keeping her on topic.

She gave a quick nod. "It could be used as a means of escape for a small party. But the tunnels do become quite narrow. Have you reason to worry?"

Loki looked at her sharply. "My asking has nothing to do with our transaction with your masters."

She gave him a knowing look, the corners of her mouth curving slightly. "Of course not." Loki did not like the way she was able to read him so easily and was quite unnerved by it. There were very few who could do that. He supposed that came with the role of acting as an Interpreter.

"There are rumours," she told him, still giving him that analytical look. He raised an eyebrow. "Since this has nothing to do with the masters, as you say. There are rumours that there is treasure beneath the city's catacombs."

"Treasure?" Loki voiced disbelievingly but the woman just nodded truthfully. He would know if she was lying. Loki became quite still as he contemplated this option. He already knew that Daenerys would not have enough gold to purchase an entire army. And unlike him, he was certain she would not abide bloodshed to get what they wanted. Even then, it wasn't like Loki and two knights could take on an entire army. "Enough treasure to buy an army perhaps?" he asked, treading carefully.

"The masters would know where it had come from," she said, glancing around once again. "But others might not." She held his gaze purposefully for a few more moments before bowing again and excusing herself for an appointment with Daenerys. _Hmmm_, he thought, staring after her. _This place was just full of surprises_.

...

_Daenerys_

"All? Did this one's ears mishear, Your Grace?" The dark woman stared at her, aghast at her request.

"They do not. I want to buy them all." Daenerys stood firm before the masters as the woman hastened to translate. Master Kraznys and Master Graesan stared at her dumbly.

"_She wants to buy them all," _the woman spoke to the masters in fluid Valaryian.

"_She can't afford them," _Ser Kraznys sneered in Valaryian._ "The slut thinks she can flash her tits and make us give her whatever she wants."_ Daenerys waited patiently, ignoring the number of insults flung in her direction as the masters quarrelled over her request.

"There are eight thousand Unsullied in Astapor," the woman reiterated. "Is this what you mean by all?"

"Yes, eight thousand," Daenerys said again, seemingly unfazed. "And the ones still in training as well."

"_If they fail on the battlefield, they will shame Astapor."_ She heard Master Graesan's concerns and she grit her teeth in frustration. She needed this to work and this sorry sap was even less accommodating than her dealings with Master Kraznys.

"Master Graesan says they cannot sell half-trained boys," the woman told her. "If they fail on the battlefield they will bring shame upon all of Astapor."

Daenerys tone became more forceful. "I'll have them all or take none," she demanded. "Many will fall in battle. I'll need the boys to pick up the swords they drop."

Master Kraznys gave an agitated sigh. _"The slut cannot pay for all of this," _he said again. _"Her ship will buy her one hundred Unsullied, no more, and this because I like the curve of her ass."_ A throaty chuckle then, in the direction of Master Graesan.

Daenerys fought not to smile then. _That's right_, she thought bitterly. _Keep focusing on my ass and I will take your entire army out from under you_.

"Your ship will buy you a hundred Unsullied," the dark woman continued. She paused as she attempted to translate the Master's crude language and Daenerys appreciated the effort it took on her part to do so. "Because Master Kraznys is generous, the gold you have left is worth ten but Master Kraznys will give you twenty. The Dothraki you have with you..." This time, even the slave woman could not hide her mortification over the Master's foul mouth and she bit her lip.

"... the Dothraki you have are not worth what they cost to feed," the slave woman translated after some thought. "But Master Kraznys will give you three Unsullied for all of them."

Daenerys rolled her eyes knowing full well what the masters had said. _Her Dothraki smell of shit, but may be useful as pig feed._ They had nerve to talk of smells.

"Master Kraznys asks how you propose to pay for the remaining 7877 Unsullied?" the slave woman asked.

Daenerys looked up into the rafters, her eyes trailing over the malnourished and broken faces of the people above her. Her heart wrenched as she saw in their eyes the anguish and suffering that no human should ever have to endure. There was even a child, no more than ten. Her eyes returned to the masters, her decision already made. _There was no other choice. Not for her._

...

_Loki_

As he made his way further underground, Loki contemplated where such treasure as spoken by the dark woman might be buried. Daenerys was keeping the masters busy for the time being, bartering for the purchase of the Unsullied although Loki wondered how she was fairing. She had informed him not to worry, that she would 'convince' them to sell but all the same, it would be best if they knew an easy way out if it came to that. They had no certainty that the masters would keep their word once it was given. They were slave traders after all. Hence Loki's current mission, although finding that there was some value hidden beneath the city was certainly an unexpected bonus. Perhaps they really could pull this off.

As he ventured further, Loki began to notice that the temperature had increased somewhat. To a human, it would have barely registered but to a Frost Giant like Loki whose blood ran cold, he could feel the distinct emitting of heat. He noted to his right that a rather musty draft was wafting up. It reeked of dryness and sand, reminding Loki of the desert that bordered Astapor. He could also smell the lingering of human sweat and labour as he wrinkled his nose and peered down the long tunnel. This looked to be the exit beyond the city, should they need it.

Loki was blithely aware of the fact that there were no guards down here but figured that the master's were so vain and set in their ways that they believed themselves untouchable and that no slave would dare touch their valuables. Of course, it was also possible that not all of the slaves knew of the horde hidden beneath the ground. This seemed more likely since Unsullied or not, Loki was certain that at least one slave would have made a run for it by now. Loki was surprised the dark woman translator knew of it at all although she had neglected to provide the specifics, indicating she did not know the exact whereabouts. Where were dragons when you needed them? They were always portrayed as being the best treasure hunters.

Loki drew up short as this thought entered his mind. _Come on, _he thought in exasperation, _you can do better than this_. He began to walk back the way he had come. How could this never have occurred to him before? He quickened his pace, knowing Daenerys's discussion with the masters would be over shortly... and he had some dragons to borrow.

...

_Daenerys_

Her mind was set. "I have dragons," Daenerys offered smugly, staring at the masters. "I'll give you one."

The dark woman's eyes widened and she translated quickly as both Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan stepped forward to convince her otherwise.

"Pray, win your throne with dragons, not slaves, Your Grace," Ser Barristan argued. Daenerys stared him down until he backed off.

"Khaleesi, please..." Ser Jorah pleaded. Daenerys then turned her cold violet glare upon him and Ser Jorah felt he might actually spontaneously combust under her gaze. Ser Jorah bowed respectfully and stepped back as Daenerys moved toward the masters and their now eager stares.

"T'ree dragons?" Master Kraznys said as his lips struggled to form the words of the common tongue.

"One," Daenerys corrected him.

"Two!" he countered harshly.

"One." Daenerys did not bat an eye as the Master smacked his lips in thought. Then he gave a toothy grin, speaking in Valaryian to the slave woman. She turned to Daenerys. "They want the biggest one," she told her.

It really did not matter to Daenerys. She would have her army regardless. "Done," she promised.

"Duna," Ser Kraznys attempted to mimic Daenerys' language.

Daenerys turned to leave but then stopped as something else occurred to her. "I'll take you as well," she said, spinning to face the slave woman once again, her blonde hair swaying with her body. The slave woman looked startled. "Now." Daenerys looked at Master Kraznys. "You'll be Master Kraznys' gift to me. A token of a bargain well struck." Daenerys longed for some female company once again as well as feeling compelled to release this woman from the vulgar slave masters.

The slave woman relayed her request to the Master who looked to Daenerys with a calculating smile. He gave a curt nod and dismissed them both with a wave of his hand. The deal was done.

...

"Khaleesi a dragon is worth more than any army," Ser Jorah begged her. "Aegon Targaryen proved that."

Having had enough, Daenerys whirled on both men, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan. "You're both here to advise me," she said, infuriated. "And I value your advice but if you ever question me in front of strangers again, you will be advising someone else. Is that understood?"

Both men nodded quickly and hastened their pace as she set off once again with the slave woman in tow. "Do you have a name?" she asked the woman, her tone softer now.

"This one's name is Missandei, Your Grace," the woman spoke clearly.

"Do you have a family? A mother and father you'd return to if you had the choice?"

"No, Your Grace. No family living." Daenerys studied her for a moment as they walked. Missandei was quite lovely, with smooth mocha skin and eyes of a golden, chocolate brown. Her hair was crimped and dark like her eyes but there were streaks of honey through it, no doubt from the weathering of the desert sun.

"You belong to me now," Daenerys said firmly so there was no misunderstanding between them, though she knew that she would never truly treat any human as _owned_. "It is your duty to tell me the truth."

"Yes, Your Grace," Missandei answered immediately. "Lying is a great offence. Many of those on the wall facing punishment were taken there for less."

"I brought water to one of the slaves dying on the wall there today." Daenerys remembered it vividly and had fought not to let her tears fall. "Do you know what he said to me? Let me die."

"There are no masters in the grave, Your Grace." Missandei was wise beyond her years.

"Is it true what Master Kraznys told me about the Unsullied? About their obedience?"

"All questions have been taken from them," Missandei confessed. "They obey, that is all. Once they are yours, they are yours. They will on their swords if you command it."

"And what about you?" Daenerys asked, looking at her new maid. "You know that I'm taking you to war, you may go hungry, you may fall sick... you may be killed."

"Valar Morghulis," Missandei said respectfully.

"Yes. All men must die," Daenerys translated, walking sharply. "But we are not men."  
Missandei concealed a warm smile as she followed her new Mistress, content for once to follow and obey without fear.

"The trade will happen at dusk," Daenerys ordered. "So I will be needing your interpretive skills for just a little while longer."

Missandei did not miss a beat. "Yes, your Grace."

"Until then, you may do as you like. I imagine you may like to spend some time away from those horrid men. Am I right?"

Missandei quirked a smile and nodded shyly. "It is pleasant to have some female company."

"Do not get used to it," Daenerys said only half joking. "We will be in the company of men for many days to come."

As they rounded the corner, Daenerys caught sight of Loki, lounging against the wall as he awaited her arrival. When his eyes met with Missandei he smiled and gave a respectful nod much to Daenerys' interest. Missandei blushed and Daenerys looked questioningly at Loki who beckoned her forward. Leaving Missandei in the company of Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan, she approached Loki, cautious of unfriendly ears.

"Did you find anything out?" she asked quickly.

"Yes," he confirmed. "And I also have reason to suspect there may be something down there that may be of use to us. Gold and the likes."

"Fantastic," she breathed, her eyes lighting up. "Can you get it?"

"I may need some help," he said. "Of the scaly type."

Daenerys understood what he meant but he could see she was hesitant, especially after having just made a rather difficult deal. "Very well," she agreed. "Take Rhaegal and Viseryion. I will need Drogon for another purpose."

Loki leaned forward, his lips brushing hers as his hand came up to cup her face. She looked at him fiercely, warning him not to be too familiar in the company of Ser Jorah but still not pushing him away he noted with some satisfaction. "Be careful," he whispered in her ear. "When things seem like they're all under control... that's usually when they're not."

Daenerys nodded once to show she understood and he placed a quick kiss in her hair before stepping back. "I'm not trading Drogon," she said softly just as Loki turned to leave.

He looked back at her. "I know," he said consciously. "Just as I knew you wouldn't settle for less."  
Daenerys was impressed with his deductive reasoning once again but she and he both knew the risks that her plan carried. "Which is why I urge you to be vigilant," Loki cautioned. "Do not give them reason to doubt you, Daenerys. It would be an easy mistake to make."

...

_Loki_

Loki returned to the tunnels in the company of Rhaegal and Viserysion, both of whom swept after him, snorting flames and seeming rather excited by the prospect of a small outing, even if it was underground. He looked at them awkwardly, wondering how to best direct them towards locating the treasure but they seemed to know immediately where to go. Either that, or they simply had the urge to follow the stinking scent of old slaves' blood. As they neared the tunnel which led to the borders of the city once again, Loki began to feel unconvinced, wondering whether the dragons were simply following their own curiosity.

His concerns were soon mitigated however when both dragons pulled up abruptly and gave shrill screeches of delight. They pivoted in the air, flying directly toward another narrow tunnel branching off of the first, with Loki struggling to keep up. He used his sceptre to light up the dark contours of the tunnel as it became ever narrower and the shrieks of Rhaegal and Viseryion bounced off of the walls in acoustic rhythm. All of a sudden, their shrieks ceased and Loki pulled up short to what was clearly a dead end. He gave an audible growl of frustration, ready to clobber the stupid lizards over their heads when he noticed their avid curiosity with the bronze wall before him. Peering closer, Loki noticed that it was not bronze at all, but faded gold. Doing some quick calculations, he realised that this placed them directly below the dragon idol that marked the west entrance.

_Of course the treasure would be hidden here_, he thought sarcastically. The dragons began scratching at the faded metal, growling and jittering in frustration. Loki tapped the sharp edge of his sceptre against the metal lightly, noticing that there were now markings running through the contours of the metal, etching from the floor all the way to the roof. He tapped the metal once again, letting his staff light up as it illuminated the base of the dragon idol. The etchings glowed with faint light now and seemed to draw a pattern of a language, perhaps old Valaryian. The sound his staff made as it connected with the metal suggested that there was also a hollow point at the base of the statue. Loki grinned. It seemed the Daenerys' dragons _had_ found the right place.

The old Valaryian seemed to indicate a puzzle of a sort in order to reach the treasure within but Loki had neither the time nor the patience to work through it now. This is where having godly abilities came into play. Pulling his shoulder back, Loki dragged the sharp tip of the sceptre across the etchings, tracing them and also severing the grooves holding the base together. A series of sharp clicks sounded in the narrow passage and the dragons screeched and trembled in anticipation. After the clicks, another audible pop sounded before five concealed drawers flicked open below, above and to the side of Loki's waist.

He paused as his eyes roved over the hidden compartments, each placed in the navigational order of North, East, South and West he now realised. Loki leaned up to inspect the first one, eager to examine the contents as Rhaegal and Viseryion both clambered toward the middle drawer which had opened up in the middle of the cardinal points. In the first drawer (North) lay an enormous gold coin with Valaryian writing on it, polished and gleaming. The coin was easily the size of Loki's palm and was set upon a simple plush red cushion. Loki pocketed the gold before reaching the second drawer (East) which immediately caught his attention.

A steel encrusted dagger lay gleaming before him, adorned with tiny red rubies, glittering emeralds and several Valaryian markings. The handle looked to be gold but Loki knew it would have to be a stronger metal than that. He did not need to touch it to know that the blade was deadly sharp and would easily slice through bone. Rather convenient, Loki mused, that he happened to have a dagger holder at his belt. Throwing aside the old Dothraki dagger that had been loaned to him more as a deterrent than an actual weapon, Loki sheathed the new beautiful weapon before turning to the third drawer at the bottom (South). In it lay a rather old fashioned crown, made of iron Loki guessed and sporting small to medium citrine gems surrounded by obscure Valaryian markings. Loki shrugged as this too fell into his pocket. The final drawer (West) presented a large necklace, with three drop pearls descending from the chain and surrounded by small diamonds. As expected, a Valaryian symbol adorned the base of each centre pearl and it was in perfect condition, making Loki wonder as to who looked after these valuables. He reached his hand inside, impressed with the pendant's weight as the chain flowed fluidly across his skin. It was a mortal trinket to be sure but easily a royal necklace.

The final compartment Loki had intentionally left until last owing to the attentions of Rhaegal and Viseryion who both obscured the treasure from view. It was centred between all of the surrounding drawers and was also somewhat larger than the others. Moving the dragons aside gently so as not to risk getting burned, Loki stopped short, staring at the object before him and knowing immediately that this – _this_ – was the treasure that Astapor had truly kept hidden. Astapor surely would have been invaded long ago if anyone knew of treasure such as this. He stared at it for a few minutes before grasping it firmly and placed it into the largest pocket in his cloak. He checked once more to ensure he was not being watched though he knew no one could easily sneak up on him. Even Rhaegal and Viseryion had quieted as they seemed to understand the value of the treasure Loki had snatched. Flicking each of the relative compartments closed, Loki stood and left as abruptly as he had come, leaving nothing to suggest that anything had been disturbed.

...

_Daenerys_

The masters had become much more accommodating since the bargain had been struck, offering comfortable lodgings for Daenerys to lounge in until dusk. She had been about to refuse the offer when Missandei leaned in quietly and told her that there was also a rather large bathroom located in the rooms they had been offered. A bath had been too tempting to resist.

Sometime later and Daenerys was enjoying just that. She leaned back into the scalding water running her hands through her wet hair as she breathed in sheer pleasure. Missandei had attempted to stop her from stepping into the water as one of her Dothraki handmaidens once had but Daenerys had laughed her away, eager for the water's scorching cleansing power. How quickly people forgot that she was the Mother of Dragons. Heat could not harm her.

The soapy foam on the water's surface was just high enough to shield her body from prying eyes but she wasn't worried. Not with Ser Jorah AND Ser Barristan guarding the entrance to her rooms. Daenerys sighed and closed her eyes, her hands grasping the sides of the top as she sunk further into the comforting warmth of the water.

"Now this is a sight I could get used to." Daenerys eyes snapped open. _Of course_. She looked to see Loki standing behind the gauze curtain by her window. His fingers traced down the silky material as he parted the curtain and stepped further into the room. Daenerys knew he couldn't really see anything but with the way his eyes blazed a trail across the water, she could hazard a guess as to what he was imagining.

"My, my, that water looks positively boiling." Loki noted the steam coming off of the bath in waves.

Daenerys smiled coyly and shook her head. "It's actually quite pleasant if you would like to join me."

Loki's eyes flicked to her wide and innocent expression but he was no fool. Rather than decline her invitation, he stepped forward and raised a cautious hand to the foamy surface. He gave a quick flick across the water and cursed, bringing his searing hand back to his body and nursing it as Daenerys giggled. He chased away her smile with a wicked gleam in his eye as he slipped his hand beneath the water once again and stroked her bosom with skilful fingers.

Daenerys gasped and shifted in the tub but his other hand appeared immediately to clamp down on her shoulder, holding her firmly in place. She shivered suddenly as the temperature of the water altered dramatically, no longer scalding as she liked it but rather lukewarm. Her eyes flew accusingly to Loki who smiled knowingly, although she had no idea how he had done it. At this precise moment though, she found she did not care as Loki's fingers were doing curious things to her beneath the water. Thanks to the foam, she could not see what he was doing but she could swear he had grown an extra hand.

"Where are Rhaegal and Viseryion?" she gasped, quite out of breath as Loki was relentless. He was now moving lower, his hands gently massaging down her belly.

"Don't worry," he assured her as he bent to capture her lips. "I returned them to the Dothraki some time ago," he murmured against her mouth.

"They're safe?" she asked, pulling away from him and knowing that she was stalling.

"They're fine," he growled. "Mission accomplished. In saying that, you are making my current mission quite difficult..." He ran his lips down the side of her neck and her eyes fluttered as she gave up on her excuses. He ran his tongue under the base of her ear and her hands grabbed hold of the front of his shirt, pulling on it impatiently. He obliged, standing quickly and shedding the offending article as her eyes were met with his perfect and sculpted chest.

His hands went to his breeches and Daenerys stood too, the water cascading off of her and running down the sides of her curves in tiny rivulets. Loki froze, unable to comprehend the magnificent sight before him. He did not think he had ever seen anything quite so beautiful.

"You're breathtaking," he whispered as his eyes drank her in. His eyes clouded darkly with lust and Daenerys saw the faint stirrings of the inner beast he had vaguely warned her about. She stepped out of the tub, heedless of the water dripping all over the floor as she leaned up to whisper seductively in his ear. "And you're wasting precious time."

Loki's hands swooped under her, whisking her off the floor and carrying her over to the lounge suite by the window. He made short work of his pants before he was hovering above her and she traced her hands down the planes of his chest. She watched in fascination as the lines she traced on his skin turned a faint shade of blue before reverting back to smooth pink human skin.

She gazed at him in wonder. "What are you?" She didn't realise that the words had slipped from her mouth until she heard them. She worried instantly that she would offend him but he didn't seem to be listening properly as his eyes were closed and his teeth were gritted in concentration.  
"I'm a god," he rasped, opening his eyes finally. Daenerys' eyes widened as she stared straight into scarlet irises but she could not harp on it for long as he entered her in one swift motion.

...

_Loki_

He did not even give her time to adjust to his size as he began thrusting, driving her back into the lounge as his large hands grasped her thighs. Daenerys pressed herself closer to him, urging him on as he drove his length in and out of her at a pace that was almost inhuman. The sounds she was making were music to Loki's ears although he found it oddly amusing that she was trying to stifle them. He grunted as he impossibly quickened his pace, wanting to finish but needing it to go on forever. He could not even begin to describe the feeling of being buried with her tight, velvet sheath whilst cradling her soft body beneath him. He could not remember ever feeling so satisfied, so wanting and yet so... complete. Daenerys completed him. The moment the thought entered his mind, Loki slowed his pace as this realisation dawned on him. This infuriating, fiery woman quivering beneath him had made him feel something that he had not let himself feel in his entire life. Her enormous, exotic violet eyes mirrored his own contentment, his own passion and his ego swelled with pride at this knowledge.

Daenerys gave a small frown as she noticed his slower movements but did not complain as he began to rotate his hips in a circle, savouring every moment. His hand reached down between them and he stroked her sensitive bundle of nerves there, earning him a gasp as he smiled, pleased. He could feel her sheath coiling tighter around his shaft as he pressed insistently with his thumb, before stroking it softly. He was purposefully letting her near her peak before gently coaxing her down from it and he almost laughed when she grunted in annoyance. She suddenly pressed her hands hard against his abs, yanked her leg free from his grasp and flipped them so that _she_ was riding _him_. The motion caught Loki by surprise and he barely registered what had happened before Daenerys began her own ministrations. Leaning down she captured Loki's taut nipple between her teeth, sucking hard before releasing it and blowing on it softly. The sensation caused Loki to hiss in pleasure as she leaned back, giving him a full view of her heavy breasts

_Mine_, his inner demon growled and Loki's hips resumed their frantic pace, going deeper and harder, hitting Daenerys at a new angle that should have hurt, but she was too far engrossed in her own release to complain now. She barely had to move her own hips since Loki was moving her all on his own. His hands slid up her toned stomach to grab a handful of each of her breasts as his cock slid deep into her. As she neared her own release, her inner wall muscles gripped him, pulling incessantly as though trying to drag him deeper. He didn't want to hold back this time. She deserved to see his full nature. He let himself morph out, cobalt skin gleaming as his eyes resumed their Frost Giant red colouring.

Daenerys stared down at him, enthralled by his beauty and at an utter loss for words but unable to stop as she felt his member swell within her. The movement brushed directly against Daenerys' bud and sent her tumbling over the edge into sheer bliss. She fell forward onto his stomach unable to hold herself up as her orgasm ripped through her belly and quenched the fire raging between her legs. Her thighs kept her steady as Loki's movements became erratic as he too achieved release. He gave a few sharp thrusts and then his cock exploded within her as he buried his head into the cushions with a hoarse shout. He pumped himself in and out as he squirted his cum into her, drawing the orgasm out as he breathed in ragged pants. His semen was still seeping into her as Daenerys came down from her peak and Loki's skin began to resume its natural colour. Both were completely out of breath and utterly spent. Daenerys laid her head against his sweat soaked chest, feeling herself rise and fall as he panted. She heard his voice rumble through his chest as he spoke. "So," he gasped. "I got you something."

He could feel her simile against his chest as she pulled her face up, resting her chin on his ribcage. "Hmmm?" was all she could manage.

"Yes," he breathed raggedly. "Under the tunnels, I found the... treasure. Not what I expected."

Daenerys blinked as she sat up, groaning softly as Loki pulled himself free. She rolled to the side, sitting up on the plush couch as Loki stood on shaky legs, moving toward the window.

"This treasure," Daenerys asked, her voice coming out breathy and forced. "Could it be used to help the people here? The slaves?"

Loki retrieved the bag he had brought and returned to the couch, placing the satchel in her lap. "It could," he conceded. "It's up to you what you do with it really."

He watched as she dug through the bag, pulling out each of the items he had found and examining them at length. He remembered the dagger then and pulled it from his belt, showing it to her as she ran her finger gently down the flat of the blade. "You should have it," she said meeting his eyes and smiling as she pushed it back toward him. "It suits you."

Loki grinned and re-sheathed the dagger as her attention returned to the items in her lap. She gazed at the intense Valaryian markings that adorned each of the items and her brow furrowed in contemplation. Loki wondered for a moment if she knew what the symbols meant but did not ask her at this point. Her eyes returned to his. "And this was all found in the underground?" she asked, waiting for his confirmation.

"They were," he answered truthfully. "Directly below the dragon statue. Along with this." He bent and reached into the pocket of his discarded cloak, retrieving a larger item and placing it into her hands. "And no matter what you do with the other trinkets," Loki warned, pointing at the item in her hands. "_**This**_ is for you."

Daenerys turned the silver and amethyst treasure in her hands over and over, swooning over its gleaming surface and feeling the warm weight within. Her motherly instinct took over and she cradled the object close to her chest.

It was a dragon's egg.

**There you go. And I promise that it will hatch!**

**If you would like to see the Astapor treasures, follow the links below:**

**The coin: wikipedia/commons/thumb/c/ce/%E6%88%90%E5%90%89%E6 %80%9D%E6%B1%97%E9%87%91%E5%B8% /800px-%E6%88%90%E5%90%89%E6%80%9D%E6%B1%97%E9%87% 91%E5%B8% **

**The dagger: toah/images/h2/h2_1984. **

**The crown: . **

**The necklace: albu_352595485_00-1. **

**The dragon egg (actually a pendant but as close to the image in my head that I could find): 009/1/7945206/il_fullxfull.459710016_ ?ref=l2**


	9. Chapter 9: Lineage

**Thanks so much everyone for all the encouraging reviews, favourites and follows this story has generated. It makes me keen to publish faster when I receive positive feedback like that!**

Chapter 9: Lineage

_Loki and Daenerys_

"They had a dragon," Daenerys said, aghast, turning the egg over in her hands. "All this time."

Loki lounged against the Victorian style chair where they had just made love, clothed once again and studying his new weapon.

"I wouldn't say that," he mused, still looking at his dagger. "It's a petrified egg, Daenerys. What good would it have done them?"

"Not much."

"So why the sour face?"

"Because I think they may have been trying to hatch it."

"What makes you say that?" he asked, lowering the dagger curiously.

"The markings... on the egg," she said harshly as she traced her fingers down the ridged scales.

"These are destruction marks. I think they tried to force it open. But the eggs are harder than Valyrian steel." They may have even tried to heat the egg as Daenerys had done once but she knew it took a lot more than that.

"Valyrian steel," Loki repeated as he flipped his weapon over. "Is it possible this dagger is made from the same alloy?" Daenerys placed the egg gently in the cushions and held her hand out.

Loki tapped the dagger into her palm, handle first, watching as she studied it. "It is Valyrian steel," she voiced, surprised. "It's extremely rare and highly sought after. The secrets to forging such weapons were lost long ago." She examined the blade at length, admiring its beauty and pausing when she noticed the Valyrian symbols. "I don't understand though. This writing, it means... air."

Loki snapped to attention as she read the symbols on the blade. "You speak Valyrian?" he demanded.

Daenerys froze, looking quickly at Loki as his lips pulled into a thin smile. "Well, I guess I shouldn't be shocked by now."His tone was low and dangerous. "You certainly have a knack for surprising people."

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I couldn't let on to the masters that I understood what they were saying. It would have ruined everything."

"It's fine," he snapped, not really sure why it bothered him. "Well since you're in full disclosure now, why don't you tell me what the rest of those symbols mean." He plopped down onto the couch again still glaring at her but his eyes did not reflect their initial fury.

Daenerys sighed as she squinted her eyes at the weapon before her. "This is the Valyrian translation for air."

"I know. You said that. What else?"

Daenerys narrowed her eyes at him. "That's it."

"That can't be it. Air? What in the hell is that supposed to mean?" He dug his nails into the arm rest in agitation as Daenerys picked up the old coin thoughtfully.

"Wait a minute," she said softly, frowning as she studied the gold. "This is the Valyrian symbol for Earth." She turned, quickly snatching up the pearl necklace. "And this -" she held up the pendant, gesturing to the symbols, "- this means water." She looked to the crown then as her eyes lit up in understanding. "Dracarys," she breathed.

Loki sat forward. "Fire?" he guessed. Daenerys bit her lip in contemplation. He took that to mean yes. "All the elements," he mused. "And at the epicentre... the dragons egg."

"What do you mean?" Daenerys asked as she kneeled, aligning each of the treasures on the floor.

Loki bent down to her level. "I mean that I found these trinkets in a specific order," he admitted. "Just as you are aligning them now."

"North." He pointed to where she had placed the gold coin.

"Earth," she said, making the connection. Her hand hovered over the next piece.

"East," Loki supplied as he stared at the dagger.

"And air," she said softly. Next was the crown. "South. And fire."

"Then to the West," Daenerys finished. "Water." She sat back on her heels staring at the cardinal points. "You said you found them in this arrangement? With the dragon egg in the middle?"

"Yes." Loki stood. "It makes sense actually."

"It does?" Daenerys questioned.

"There are similar compilations back in Asgard. Objects of immense power are positioned between all of the elements, aligned. I should have been able to determine that from the way the objects were arranged. I can't believe that I didn't." He huffed in annoyance. "Clearly, I'm slipping."

"Loki," Daenerys uttered, trying to keep him on track. "The objects?"

He blinked and looked back to her. "Right. Back to the point. These items are usually located at the epicentre of the elements, as a representation of a fifth element. Power."

Daenerys cocked her head in confusion. "I thought the fifth element was spirit."

Loki scoffed, giving her a pained look of exasperation. "Yeah that sounds like a typical mortal summarisation." He sighed, picking up the dragon egg and gently placing it in the centre of the fold. "The fifth element is power, Daenerys. It represents a complete convergence of the other four. But more commanding than any of them combined."

"And a dragon egg represents just that. Or so they think," she surmised. "I read once that: dragons are fire made flesh. And fire is power. Is that not the same thing?"

"Fire is generally the most revered element," Loki conceded. "It can both create and destroy. But fire is restricted. Water for instance can take on different forms. Air is the very essence of the soul and wisdom. And Earth, well, Earth is fertile, solid and yielding. It brings life where there was none. Yes, fire is a powerful element... but a dragon is not fire. It is more than that. A dragon is power. A dragon is _all_. They dominate the air, they breathe fire. They thrive in the water and they are born of the Earth. They command the elements, Daenerys."

Daenerys was utterly thunderstruck by Loki's explanation that she jumped when he appeared suddenly in front of her. "And _you_ command them." He gave a sort of twisted smile as he reached out a hand to gently stroke the back of his finger down her cheek. "I told you that your name held power. It is little wonder that the usurpers of Westeros are afraid of you taking back the throne. They should be."

"I need to see where you found these treasures, Loki," she insisted, as Loki removed his hand from her face. "It might tell me more about this egg. Perhaps I can hatch it as I did the others."

"I've been thinking about that. You said that you used dark magic and fire to hatch your three dragons, correct?"At Daenerys' nod, he continued "I think that maybe you were wrong."

When he saw her incensed look, his tone turned sharp. "What are the words of your House?" he bit off.

"Fire and blood," she said immediately.

"Exactly. I do not think it was the witch's magic which bore your dragons. I think it was her blood. Her blood, boiled in fire. It's the blood of your enemies slain in flames."

"Intriguing," she voiced as she processed Loki's idea. She looked at him in slight annoyance then. "How is it that you seem to know so much about dragons now?"

He smiled charmingly. "Calm yourself, little Dragon. I have no doubt that it is you alone who is able to do this. No one else carries the power of your bloodline." He leaned closer, flattering her with his close proximity. "No one else has your fire."

She returned his smile, pleased by the compliment. "Will you show me where you found the egg?"

"Of course. I can show you right now if you wish."

"Not yet," she objected, staring out the window to the city walls and beyond. "No, first I need to keep my appointment with Master Kraznys. I am to receive my army."

"Ah, of course." He stepped back, bowing slightly and gesturing for Daenerys to walk ahead of him. "Shall we depart then?"

She took a few steps then stopped, turning to face him. "This is probably a bad idea," she said more to herself than him. "But this might go a whole lot smoother if you know what's about to happen. And since I know you hate surprises."

Loki stared at her with interest. "I'm listening."

...

Daenerys strode through the great gates as they opened before her, walking regally with Missandei and Loki in tow. Following close behind, the unhappy snarls of her dragon, Drogon could be heard as he remained cooped in his leather basket, carried forth by the Dothraki. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan brought up the rear, eying the basket disapprovingly and cautiously avoiding eye contact with the curious glances of the slaves.

Daenerys said nothing as Master Kraznys began to speak at her approach, his hand held aloft and sporting a golden cat of nine tails. Missandei began to translate as they neared the masters and Daenerys' eyes flew to the golden whip clutched in the Master's chubby fingers.

"The Master says they aren't tested," Missandei informed Daenerys. "He says you would be wise to blood them early. There are many small cities between here and there; cities ripe for sacking."

Loki witnessed the way Ser Jorah's eyes raked over the slaves and the Masters. He did not appear disgusted by the trade as Daenerys did, but rather disinterested, as though he were looking to buy but had found nothing to catch his attention. He wondered what the story was there as Loki listened to Missandei's explanation

"Should you take captives," she continued. "The Masters will buy the healthy ones and for a good price." Their walk had carried them to just outside the city gates now where the Unsullied were gathered in the thousands. It was an impressive sight and Loki yearned to see them perform on the battlefield, impressed by their ability to not move even an inch as they strode past the rows of elite warriors.

"And who knows," Missandei said softly, voice barely above a whisper as they came to stop in front of Master Kraznys. "In ten years, some of the boys you send them may be Unsullied in their term. All shall prosper." Missandei glanced back to the Master's, unimpressed by their speech but unable to say so. Daenerys on the other hand remained impassive, staring straight into Master Kraznys eyes so intently that even the Master blinked and look away.

_Ha!_ Loki thought. Looking away first was a sure sign of weakness and he was beginning to like their chances, especially if this ignorant asshole remained oblivious to their schemes. He checked once again to make sure the soldiers did not seem antsy but they were merely gazing avidly at the box which contained Drogon. Loki would be willing to wager the entire Unsullied army that these men had never before seen an actual dragon.

Daenerys stood calmly before the Masters, glaring at them before she turned toward the casket which held Drogon. She could hear him growling in frustration from within and she did her best to mask the guilt she felt for even having to go introduce her dragons to such brutal men. She unlocked the latches carefully, and reached within the leather box as all of the men around her, in particular the Masters, craned their necks, attempting to glimpse the beast within. Daenerys lowered the lid and the Masters flinched as the creature inside hissed, crawling forward and revealing its dark and scaly form to their hungry eyes at last. There was a decent chain dangling from its neck which Daenerys proceeded to pick up, holding it upright as Drogon snarled and turned his reptilian gaze upon the Masters. He spread his wings and his shadow grew larger and darker as he flapped overhead, the chain still dangling into Daenerys outstretched hand.

The putrid Master looked like a cat that had got the cream now, grinning and rubbing his pudgy fingers together as he stared at the impressive Drogon, still attached to his leash. Ser Jorah, Loki noticed, looked pleadingly at Daenerys one last time, hoping to sway her from her decision but she walked forward with Drogon's chain, stopping just before Master Kraznys. She handed him the chains now, averting her eyes so that Loki would not see her hesitation. He longed to reassure her. This _would_ work. His fingers smoothed up the staff of his sceptre which he had concealed as a walking stick with a rather simple illusion. His worry however was not for the weapon he held but Daenerys other two dragons which he knew were hidden only several feet from where they were standing, obscured by some desert sandstones. He felt for sure that the masters must be able to hear the dragon's impatient snuffling, because Loki could hear it as clear as day. But they must have either been deaf of ear or ignorant of mind because the Masters paid no heed to anything else, having eyes only for Daenerys and more specifically, Drogon.

As Daenerys handed over Drogon, the master stared up at the mythical beast in awe as he quickly thrust the golden whip at Daenerys. She took it from him carefully, looking at the awful object and all the subjugation it represented. Her eyes flashed to the Master. "Is it done then?" she wanted to know. "They belong to me?"

Missandei asked the Master quickly for confirmation and Loki felt his curiously prickle. As Kraznys began speaking, Loki cast his mind into the Master's, seeking interpretation of the foreign language. Although he could also hear Missandei's translation, he knew now that the demure slave was in fact also covering for his deplorable language. "It is done," Missandei told Daenerys. "You hold the whip."

"_The bitch has her army_," Master Kraznys sneered and Loki's jaw hardened as he contemplated ripping this man limb from limb. He held himself back, knowing he had only minutes, if that. He understood now, the cold calculating eyes that Daenerys cast upon them. If this was how they had been addressing her the whole time, it must have taken Daenerys quite a bit of willpower to wait for the right moment such as now. Loki's fist tightened on his sceptre again as Daenerys turned and approached her new army as Drogon snarled in his chains behind her. Loki also saw Daenerys' resolve break ever so slightly as she heard Drogon's distressed cries behind her but she held her breath and continued walking until she stopped in front of the Unsullied.

She looked at the whip in her hand and then to the slave army. "_Unsullied!" _she cried in Valyrian. Missandei, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan all looked to Daenerys in alarm, shocked to hear her utter the Valyrian tongue for the first time. The Unsullied responded immediately, all simultaneously pulling their shields into toward their body and awaiting her command. "_Forward march!"_

Loki smiled at their whimsical expressions as the Unsullied pushed forward. He had known about this since the night before but it was all the more comical now, especially as Master Kraznys still clutched pathetically at the chains that held Drogon, oblivious to his own demise. "_Halt_," Daenerys ordered and the Unsullied froze immediately. A smile dawned on her face as she stared at the Unsullied army. _Her_ army. Master Kraznys was struggling now as he hefted Drogon's chains, attempting to wrangle him inside but Drogon was not having a bar of it. As far as he was concerned, this man was trying to pull him away from his mother and Loki looked at the beast with respect. Even now, the creature recognised no master. _"Tell the bitch her beast won't come_," the Master growled, addressing Missandei as he tugged at Drogon's leash. Loki's Frost Giant simmered beneath the surface as he felt his eyes bleed red.

Daenerys' next words, he could not have said better himself. _"A dragon is not a slave," _Daenerys said dangerously, turning to the Master at last.

Master Kraznys looked at her in horror. _"You speak Valyrian?" _he spat.

"_I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryian, of the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue_," she said derisively. Ser Jorah looked at her with admiration and Missandei smiled cunningly at Master Kraznys. Daenerys gave the Master one last look of contempt before turning to her new army.

"_Unsullied_," she commanded loud and clear. _"Slay the master, slay the soldiers, slay every man who holds a whip, but harm no woman or child_. _Strike the chains of every slave you see!"_

The nearest Unsullied soldier responded immediately, running his spear straight through the chest of a slave master to his left, the man's cries curdling as his blood spilled onto the sand. Loki dropped his illusion, letting his sceptre glow with ferocity as the Unsullied moved to heed the orders of their Mistress, stabbing the master soldiers as they tried to run away.

Master Kraznys panicked. "_I am your Master_!" he yelled. _"Kill her! Kill her!" _

Ser Jorah reacted quickly, reaching for his sword as Loki snarled, surging forward with an eagerness to end the Master's miserable, pathetic life. Daenerys beat them all to it with a single word uttered. "Dracarys."

Drogon roared and blasted the Master with a fiery vengeance. Master Kraznys screamed as he was engulfed in dragon flame, dropping the chains which held the beast as his flesh sizzled and cooked. As the man crumbled, burning, Loki's sceptre flashed, signalling for Rhaegal and Viseryion to take flight. The Unsullied tore through the dozen or so soldiers that patrolled them, moving to the city as the massacre began.

Ser Jorah shielded Missandei from the grim sight as the Masters screamed and bled in agony. Daenerys watched coldly as the slave masters were slaughtered before her, but the Unsullied did not stop there, moving to the gates at her command. No mercy.

Loki kicked the charred corpse of Master Kraznys aside as Drogon came to land at his feet and he raised his spear, slicing clean through the chains which held the dragon. Drogon growled in appreciation, taking to the sky to join his brothers as the Unsullied ransacked Astapor. Loki bared his teeth in a feral grin as the dragons torched the city walls, burning and clearing the path for the Unsullied.

Loki heard a piteous whimper and turned to see Master Graeson cowering behind a tent canvas stained red with blood, obviously having been missed by the Unsullied soldiers. Loki smiled evilly as he approached the man, holding his spear in front of him and letting the man see the death that awaited him. The man mewled weakly, scrambling backwards on all fours like the dog that he was as Loki followed him closely. He held his sooty, blood-smeared hands in front of him, begging. _"Please_," he uttered. "_Please."_ Loki laughed at his feeble attempt to plead with him as the man shook his head. The Master turned, beady eyes searching for anyone, anything that might save him. His eyes landed on Daenerys as she watched the exchange coolly and he gestured forcefully at her. _"Whatever that bitch is paying you, I can double it. Please, I beg you_." Loki's smile fell and he rammed his sceptre straight into the man's chest, impaling him so thoroughly that the blade jutted out of the man's back.

The man choked and blood bubbled from his mouth as Loki leaned in close to whisper forcefully in his ear. "I think you'll find," he hissed, "I don't actually speak Valyrian you festering ball of pus!" With that he yanked his spear free, tearing through the man's arteries and bones as he fell into a seeping, bleeding mess. Daenerys came to stand by him as smoke wafted throughout the city, drifting beyond the walls and accompanied by the distant cries of the Masters as the Unsullied murdered them where they stood. She stared at the body before her with a blank expression and Loki watched her with a grim satisfaction. "Do you pity them?" he uttered.

Daenerys looked quickly at him. "Eight thousand dead babies," she reminded him venomously. Loki felt heat pool in his groin at her merciless tone, utterly enthralled by her ability to be both commanding and compassionate at the same time. She began to walk back toward the city gates. "Come," she encouraged Loki. "Show me this wall where you found the dragon's egg. No one will hinder us now."

...

"It's remarkable," Daenerys commented staring at the golden wall. Her delicate fingers traced the Valyrian etchings as Loki stood behind her and watched her curiosity with a fascination of his own. Her fingers found the grooves which concealed the drawers and she tried to pry it open. When she failed to do so, she looked questioningly at Loki who smirked. He gave his sceptre a playful toss, catching it quickly and slowly traced the etchings around the drawer. It popped open and Daenerys eyed it eagerly as she bent to examine the underside of the drawer.

"Daenerys," Loki said patiently, watching as she leant down to touch the underside of each drawer. "What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to-" a pause as she felt around under the base, smiling as she found the latch. "Trying to read the Valyrian translation. It's not finished." She moved to each drawer, running her fingers under the base until she found what she was looking for. When she reached the fifth, she gave a particularly hard push and the drawers clicked closed as the wall began to move. Loki stepped back in amazement as the wall rotated, moving some of the etchings into place and making it look more like a decipherable language than a bunch of random scribbling.

"Ah," said Loki admirably. "You've solved the puzzle."

"Not exactly," she murmured as she stepped back, squinting at the wall. "You opened the treasures but the translation was incomplete. Back home, in Westeros, my family would conceal our histories in a similar way."

Loki waited, eyes roving the wall before him as Daenerys turned, unused to his silence. When he continued to offer no response, she shrugged. "It's nothing really. My family was just paranoid about others finding out all the secrets of the dragons. Or how my family came to ride them."

Loki's eyes followed hers to the wall. "This writing... it speaks of your family?"

Daenerys shook her head as she studied the markings. "No it's something else. It definitely speaks of dragons but there is no mention of House Targaryen. There were other families, many years ago. Others of the blood of Old Valyria who rode the dragons as my family did. It speaks of the Doom of Valyria."

Loki recalled how she had spoken of this briefly during their sessions as they sailed to Astapor. "The Doom of Valyria," he recounted. "End of the dragons?"

She nodded as she began to translate, reading in the common tongue so Loki could understand.

"They lay entwined at first light, two lovers fair of face.  
A maiden young, her handsome spouse, both lost to death's embrace.  
The Earth lay cracked, their hearts stood still, ash and smoke fell forth,  
And dragonglass fell in shards from West, South, East to North.  
They remained close, as they breathed their last, the fire fit to burn.  
The mountains burst and oceans boiled, their lives had come their turn.  
Some say their tears brought the acid shower, their passion stoked the flames.  
The Doom took them, and bore them down to darkness from whence it came."

As she finished the verse, Daenerys felt her eyes pricking faintly with tears as she recalled the vague words of this ballad, sung to her long ago by her brother. "Daenerys," Loki said softly. "What is it?"

"I know this song," she whispered brokenly. "It is about two lovers who died in the Doom. It was sung to me as a child. But there's more. Viserys never sung me the verse that follows." With a deep breath she continued as Loki's heart ached for her:

"Under blood sky, the darkness spread, dragons burned into bones.  
The fire made them fall from heaven, their eggs all turned to stone.  
For fire, they say, can cleanse the soul and is the purest death.  
In death, comes life. Fire returns, in time, on dragon's breath.  
When skies bleed red, one shall rise to command and to reign.  
It will begin here, through blood and fire, and the dragons shall live again."

Loki could not help but draw comparisons between the sonnet and Daenerys' fast rise to power but he had to admit, the skies had not turned red and Daenerys had had her dragons for some time before coming to Astapor. It was more likely a vague prediction made by a hopeful poet who one day hoped to see the mythical beasts return. And yet...

"Why should it begin here?" Loki couldn't help but question the prophecy. "Because they have a petrified dragon's egg? You already had three dragons before you ever set foot in Astapor."

Daenerys looked at him strangely and he gave a short laugh of disbelief. "Oh, come on. You must know by now that this prophecy is referring to someone like you, someone who commands dragons."

Daenerys did not argue as she traced the drawer that had carried the dragon's egg, again touching the Valaryian etchings. "Mother, Daughter, Dragon," she read aloud. "I guess it could refer to me, or maybe someone from my lineage. It's probably safe to say the sonnet is about my dragons at least. They are the only ones in existence."

Something occurred to Loki as he watched Daenerys come to terms with the prophecy. "Or maybe it's not about your dragons at all," he realised as Daenerys frowned in confusion. "Maybe it's about the lineage to come. Think about it. Drogon, Rhaegal, Viseryion," he listed, counting them off his fingers. "All masculine names."

"With proper reason," Daenerys explained, still not seeing his point.

"Daughter and dragon. The egg, Daenerys," he stated, staring hard as he waited for her to understand. Comprehension dawned on her face.

"It's female," she said in wonder.

"An entire line of dragons. Sired by _you_." Daenerys could hear the admiration and hunger in Loki's words as he slid his hands around her waist to interlock them at her stomach. He leaned his head on her shoulder and gently kissed the side of her neck. "Mother of Dragons, indeed."


	10. Chapter 10: Life's Great Lie

**Sorry for the wait! This chapter took me forever to write. I had to write it, edit it, scrap it and then re-write it several times because I was never happy with it. Thank you once again avid readers **

Chapter 10: Life's Great Lie

_Loki_

The sight before him was not one Loki would soon forget. Arid desert stretched for miles ahead of him as he urged his black stallion forward. To his left spanned the coastline, the water reflecting the merciless sun which beat down on tanned, sweat-soaked backs and weathered armour. Thousands upon thousands of men carrying swords, shields and spears marched in formation across the dry sand whilst overhead, swooped three magnificent beasts, screeching a warning to any who might approach them.

But more than this, the army that marched ahead did not stop, did not delay and did not complain. Daenerys rode at the face of the Unsullied army, perched atop a white mare and clothed in a warrior's garb. Loki had thought that her creamy skin would have to blemish in time with the sun but it remained as porcelain as ever. Her silver hair was held back by two braids, allowing the bulk of it to cascade freely down her back. Her face was fierce and determined as she rode with purpose, having gained the loyalty of over ten thousand men in less than a day.

Loki's mouth twisted into a grim line as he thought back to what had transpired only hours before. He had assumed Daenerys would take her army and whatever treasures they could carry after conquering Astapor before riding for Westeros. His desires however were overruled as Daenerys stood before her army, willing to grant them the very thing that had long been denied them.

...

_Astapor lay smouldering as the Unsullied stood in battle formation beyond its gates. Other slaves waited in droves just inside the city gates, staring out curiously as their masters lay dead, rotting and quite forgotten. The Unsullied awaited further instruction as Daenerys mounted a snowy mare, brought to her by one of her new warrior. Missandei stood still, unsure of her next move as her Mistress steered her horse through the rows of Unsullied._

"_Unsullied!" Daenerys called out in Old Valyria. "You have been slaves all your life. Today you are free. Any man who wishes to leave may leave, and no one will harm him. I give you my word."_

_Loki froze at her words. What was she doing? He stared in horror at the men before her, waiting for them to drop their spears or even to laugh at her. But they did neither as she made her grand speech. Perhaps they did not believe her._

"_Will you fight for me?" she demanded of them, fiercely addressing the collective before her. "As free men?"_

_She was greeted with silence as the Unsullied stood stock still and Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan eyed the men warily. After a few moments, a soft tapping could be heard and Loki twisted his neck, attempting to locate the source of the sound. Several more tapping sounds joined the first and Loki realised that some of the Unsulllied soldiers had begun to softly rap the base of their spears into the sand. Before long, the entire army were slamming the hilts of their weapons against the ground in unison, all hailing the Daenerys, the Mother of dragons, who had set them free._

_Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan looked on admirably as Loki's blood boiled beneath the surface. He kept his silence as they rode out of the city, leading a mortal army to which he had not seen the likes of. As Daenerys' horse cantered past him, Loki watched as she looked disdainfully at the whip in her hands, gifted to her by the masters, before casting it into the sand. He continued to gaze at the whip as the Unsullied trampled it beneath their feet, following Daenerys and not sparing the 'cat of nines' a second glance. After a few moments, Loki spurred his own horse as well, galloping after Daenerys as her dragons roared in earnest, leading the deadly army along the coastline._

...

She had done the exact opposite of what he would have done for he would never, not in a thousand years would he ever have set free his only chance of claiming an army in his name or the throne that they would shortly conquer. Perhaps that was why Daenerys now rode with an entire army at her beck and call, willing to fight for her, to die for her even, whilst he was left with the bitter memory of the army he had once used to try and conquer Earth. They had fallen so easily and once he had lost the fight to the Avengers, the Chitauri, his allies bought and paid for, had abandoned him. The men who rode before him now, however, would not do as the Chitauri had done. All of them, each and every one, intended to see this through to the end. Loki could feel their resolve like the taut string of a bow, poised and ready for direction, to wound and to kill. All for a mortal woman whose life had not yet spanned two decades.

Daenerys had left a small council of temple men in charge, to restore Astapor to its former glory and to ensure the slave trade did not return. She had even handed over the Astapor treasures, telling them to sell the trinkets and use the substantial gold to feed and clothe the people of the city. She gave them all but the dagger, which she allowed Loki to have, and the dragon's egg which the priests insisted she keep as it would be of little use to them regardless. And now, they marched forth, on their way to Yunkai, another slave city where Daenerys intended to free further victims of the slave trade. _By the gods_, Loki thought, gritting his teeth, _she was an exhilarating yet stubborn woman_.

Loki had long ago determined freedom to be one of humanity's great lies for it brought them nothing but misery in the end. Humans, like trout to a fishing lure, would wriggle and writhe for the deadly hook and take it willingly until it ensnared them. For once freedom was granted, one was never truly liberated. As a slave, one had purpose and direction, to fulfil the actions and needs of their master. It was a simple state of living, natural even, to kneel before their superiors. As liberated men, they were not free, not really. They simply served another master. They were all slaves to the whims of mortality, craving subjugation, riches, sex, alcohol and power. In freedom, humans were lost. They would bend and kneel to sin until they became tired, fell sickly and grew old. In the end, they would always kneel. And then they would die. Freedom was a petty sentiment, a mortal lie.

But Daenerys had granted it to the Unsullied this very day. And rather than engage in the mortal whims of whoring and boozing as typical men did, they had looked to Daenerys with reverence. Not as a lustful man would do to a maiden, but as spiritual men would do to a God. Daenerys really had given them freedom. These men did not look conquered or scared. They looked hopeful as they followed Daenerys in her quest for Westeros.

Loki continued to ride in silence, brooding as he contemplated this woman who had gathered to her a force to be reckoned with and who would surely succeed where he had not. "It is no small thing to love one of the great ones," Ser Jorah observed as he steered his horse next to Loki's. Loki ignored him but this did not deter the older man. "I first met her over a year ago as a girl. A child," he murmured, eyes fixed on the young Khaleesi as she guided her army West. "That was back when she still let her brother rule her life."

"Does it look like I'm in an ample mood for conversation?" Loki growled, staring straight ahead.

"How else shall we pass the time?"

"There is no passing time for me. There is just time and I have no shortage of it. I am immortal."

"So you say," Ser Jorah uttered disbelievingly. "And where does one hail from to warrant longevity such as yours?"

"As one would expect," Loki replied, glaring at Ser Jorah. "I was _born_ into it."

A look passed between the two as their horses cantered side by side and the Unsullied marched ahead through the dry sand. "Why are you here?" Loki demanded suddenly.

"Because the Khaleesi wishes it."

"So you stay because of your feelings for her?"

Ser Jorah glanced at him sharply, not wanting to rise to the bait but unable to hide the anger lacing his words. "I have known the Khaleesi far longer than you. She trusts me and she heeds my council."

"And yet you were surprised by her ability to speak fluent Valyrian?" Loki asked smugly.

Ser Jorah blinked and averted his gaze. "Perhaps you are ignorant of the term trust," he retorted acidly. "It goes both ways. I am sure the Khaleesi had her reasons." He looked at Loki then and if Loki were a mortal man, he might have flinched under the heat of the elder man's gaze. "I don't like you," Ser Jorah grit out. "But I have complete and utter faith in Daenerys. So if I must put up with your company because she deems it necessary, then so be it. But know this... I will _always_ protect her. Even from you."

Loki was appalled to find that Ser Jorah's words actually moved him. He was growing far too comfortable in this mortal realm. Worse still, he was beginning to find some form of kinship with this mundane man. "You have nothing to fear from me." Loki found himself assuring the man. "At least not where Daenerys is concerned."

As dusk morphed into early evening, Loki despite himself was growing curious of Daenerys' background. He had listened to her recount of the Valyrian history for hours during their travels however she had revealed very little of herself in all that time. Loki glanced at Ser Jorah resignedly, knowing there was only one person to ask at this point. "You said that Daenerys used to let her brother rule her life," he said grudgingly, immediately capturing Ser Jorah's attention. "Is that true?"

Ser Jorah was so surprised by Loki's interest that he did not even bother with a haughty reply. "Yes," he admitted. "She married Drogo because Viserys wished it. He wanted to reclaim the Iron Throne in the Targaryen Name. So he sold his sister in marriage to the Dothraki Lord in exchange for his army."

Loki's jaw tightened as his eyes blazed with fury. "I can't imagine Daenerys putting up with someone like that," he said venomously.

"Not now," Ser Jorah pointed out. "But Daenerys was a very different person when I first met her. She was timid. Afraid. Her brother was the only family she had ever known and she looked to him for guidance."

"Some brother," Loki spat, empathising with her. "He should have protected her. It is no wonder she hates the slave trade. The hand dealt to her by Viserys was no better."

"True," Ser Jorah conceded. "But it needed to happen. Viserys used to warn her not to wake the dragon. He truly thought himself a son of the Dragon's Blood. It was with his death that Daenerys learned her true calling. The blood of the Dragon runs deep, but only in those who are worthy."

"I hope the stupid prick got exactly what he deserved," Loki snarled.

"He did," Ser Jorah mused. "Drogo poured molten gold over his head."

Loki's eyebrows shot up as the corners of his mouth tilted down with surprise. "Artistic," he said admirably. "And Daenerys allowed it?"

"I think she saw the futility of fighting for the brother she knew she would never have," Ser Jorah said wisely. "Viserys was not Rhaegar."

"Viserys and Rhaegar," Loki repeated as he looked to the dragons flying overhead. "It is no mystery then where she got the names of her dragons."

Ser Jorah nodded thoughtfully as the beasts screeched from their skyward positions. "Her brother Rhaegar was a true leader. Much like she is now. Kind and compassionate, and yet utterly ruthless toward her enemies."

"Is that what you call that?" Loki questioned harshly, spurring his horse again as the stallion had started to slow. "I would say Daenerys dealt those slave masters a kindness. If it were me at the reigns, I would have made them suffer a far worse fate for their impudence. Their deaths took but moments."

"And therein Daenerys demonstrates leadership in a way which men do not. She may be fierce but she is never cruel."

"Compassion and ferocity seldom go hand in hand," Loki noted scornfully.

"Perhaps that is why there is only one Mother of Dragons."

Loki looked at Ser Jorah's serious expression and scoffed. "If she isn't careful, her kindness will be the death of her." With that he urged his black horse into a gallop, tearing away from Ser Jorah as he steered toward the front of the Unsullied army where Daenerys continued to lead them into the night.

...

_Daenerys_

The moon had slowly started to rise long before the stars as Daenerys and her Unsullied army marched on into the early night. She knew they would have to stop soon, for rest and food, but her determination kept them soldiering on for much longer than they should. The sooner they reached Yunkai, the sooner they could free more people from the heinous trade of slavery. It had also been some time since Daenerys had seen a full moon and it made her heart ache. At least while they marched on, she could pretend her eyes watered from lack of sleep and not for the true reason; that it reminded her of her stargazing nights with Drogo.

"Do you plan to eat anytime soon? Or do you intend to march until we drop, as the Unsullied would do?" Loki's silky voice floated to her ears.

"The more ground we cover now, the less we shall have to travel later," she said resolutely.

"Yes but if I am not mistaken the desert can get quite cold at night for lack of a sun. Can you not see the shivers of your men?"

Daenerys felt her stomach turn over in guilt as she saw the Loki was indeed correct and the Unsullied, though they marched, were beginning to break out in cold shivers. She noticed a large coastal canyon about 1 mile ahead, stretching just far enough to provide shelter even for her vast army.

"_Halt_!" she commanded to the front lines as the Unsullied came to a stop. She turned to the large group, pointing to the great canyon. _"We rest there for the evening. And travel at first light_."

As the soldiers began making preparations to settle and make camp, Daenerys turned to Loki as something occurred to her. "I don't know if we have enough rations to make it to Yunkai, even with what we have taken from Astapor. I know the Unsullied can go for a long time without food or water, but it is not a habit I would like to get into."

Loki turned toward the coastline, eyeing the turbulent waves. "Wait here," he told her. He dismounted, shaking himself free of horse hair and made his way over to Missandei who was chatting amiably with Ser Jorah. Their conversation quieted at his approach and Ser Jorah dismounted first, moving to help Missandei as she climbed down from her horse.

"The Unsullied are trained to last for days without food or water," Loki stated. "Is this an act of survival or can they also fend for themselves?"

Missandei clasped her hands demurely in front of her as she gave her reply. "The Unsullied are trained for the purposes of battle, endurance and survival. They know all the common forms of foraging and hunting so they may keep themselves nourished enough for the battlefield. They can also fast when resources are scarce."

"Can they fish?"

Missandei gazed at him meaningfully. "Yes, of course."

Loki nodded. "Spread the word. Tell the men to spearfish along the coast. We will save the bread and dried meat rations for the hot days ahead."

...

It was an incredible sight, all the beacons lit along the coast as several hundred fires roasted all forms of fish, shellfish and other catch sported by the Unsullied. Daenerys was impressed as she munched on the hot flesh of a cooked trout which Loki has spit roasted for her over the flames of their bonfire. "How is it that we managed to feed an entire army?" Daenerys asked in astonishment. Not one of her men had had to go hungry.

Loki gave a slight chuckle as he turned Missandei's fish over in the ash pit. "Celestial event," Loki explained. "When the moon is high, fish tend to bite." When Daenerys gave him a dubious look, he smiled knowingly. "Okay, I _may_ have had something to do with it. It's easy enough to coax the catch into the shallow waters... with a little magnetism," he said gesturing to his spear which he had laid gently against some sea rock.

"Amazing," Daenerys said, shaking her head in wonder as she took another bite into the tasty flesh.

"Did your brother teach you this?" Missandei asked with interest. Loki paused and slowly turned to face her. Missandei averted her gaze immediately upon receiving his glare and Daenerys frowned at him.

"Loki," she began, her tone reprimanding. Loki stood before she could utter another word, stalking past them all and into the darkness. He passed a few other bonfires where several dozen Unsullied had gathered and ignored their curious gazes. His boots sunk into the soft sand as he made his way down the sea rocks toward the water.

The moon was high in the sky by now and the stars stretched for eons through space. For a mortal plane, this world had an astounding view of the cosmos. Loki came to a stop just before the sea, the waves lapping mere metres from his feet. He stared out to the open ocean as he considered his temper. He didn't really know why the mentioning of his brother had set him off except that he tired quickly of any praise Thor received, even if unintentional. Thor had never really taught Loki anything, even when they were boys and had thought themselves blood brothers. It was true they had played together and were raised side by side but Thor was the warrior and the great, white hope for Asgard.

Loki bent, picking up a smooth flat rock and turning it over in his fingers. _Yes Thor was the warrior_, he thought grimly, _but not here_. Here, the mortals could care less about his pompous blonde brother. This world was his chance, he knew. It was his opportunity to matter. No longer would he be forced to prove himself in reverence of his brother's shadow. No longer would he have to cater to the man's ego, him or his bloody hammer. He flipped his hand harshly, skipping the rock sharply across the water. It skimmed the surface several times before sinking into oblivion. Loki sighed, hands raking through his hair in aggravation as he slowly sunk against the damp sea rock. A ragged shriek came from his right and Loki turned to see Drogon as he swept down to the sand, claws perched outward as he settled on the rock next to Loki. He eyed Loki keenly and Loki smiled as he reached out a hand to caress the beast's snout. The dragon huffed as he noticed some light steam coming off Loki's skin, a consequence of Loki's cool touch upon his own scorching scales.

"I bet you're the only one who's less thrilled than I am about our current company," Loki guessed as his fingers tingled with the warmth of the dragon's breath.

"Funny, you seem to enjoy your own company more than anyone's," Daenerys speculated from behind him as Drogon gave a happy growl at seeing his Mother.

"I enjoy it even more when I'm alone," Loki said harshly as Drogon crawled forward to receive Daenerys' touch. She gave him a tentative pat before focusing her attention on the man before her.

"Loki." Daenerys came to stand directly before him as he sat against the sea rock. Unusually enough from this position, it was he who looked up to her and it felt odd as she extended a hand against his face. He pulled away from her touch and stood, cursing softly as his skin sung from the soft caress of her fingers. "Leave me," he threw at her.

"No," she said stubbornly. "It is time we had a talk. Long due."

"I won't apologise to Missandei," he snapped. "My brother is no business of hers."

"This is not about Missandei," Daenerys said in exasperation. "She will live. It is your sore point which we need to discuss."

"My family?"

"If that is your sore point..."

"Do not try to counsel me!"

"And do not avoid the subject!"

Loki threw his hands up in frustration as he turned from her to regard the sea instead. It was easier than keeping a level gaze with her stormy eyes.

Daenerys however refused to relent. "Why do you avoid every possible discussion of your family? Or your home? Do you care so little for those closest to you?"

Loki turned, giving her a full view of his face so she could read the sincerity in his eyes. "Yes."

She flinched at the truth in his words. "But that was before," he continued honestly. "No one ever mattered before. I cared not for the hurt of others. In fact, I revelled in it. At times, I even caused it. What I did and who I hurt in my quest for power never mattered... Not before you."

Daenerys felt her heart soar at his words as her mouth opened in surprise. "Loki..." she tried again, for she could find no other words to express the emotions she felt at this moment.

"And now," he continued still. "When that power is within reach, I find myself questioning it." His eyes focused heavily on Daenerys. "I never question anything, Daenerys, least of all myself." He stepped closer. "Power is what matters." Another step. "Now, I'm not even sure I want it." One more step and he seized Daenerys by her upper arms, earning a startled gasp from her. He shook her but not very hard. "And it's all because of you! What have you done to me?" he demanded, his eyes wild and searching her face as though her expression held the answer to his tortures.

"Nothing I intended," she murmured. "Believe me." He released her and stepped back, grumbling softly.

"You are a paradox," he decided, pretending that his short outburst had not occurred. "You court war and yet you fight even more fiercely for the freedom of others. It is a futile mission. You cannot give it to everyone."

"You're right. I cannot give a man his freedom when it is not mine to give. I can only secure it for them."

Loki tore a thick, jutting tree branch from the sand and heaved it into the water in aggravation. "What good is an entire army of freedom fighters?!" he yelled as he advanced on her. "Why would they go to battle for you?"

The dragon he had been petting only moments before suddenly rose up and snarled at him, ready to protect Daenerys at any cost. Daenerys was not put off in the least. "Because they want to," she said fiercely. "Because they can and they choose to. Not because of you or me or anyone else."

"Really? And what will this freedom buy them? An early grave?" he spat, so close to Daenerys now that he towered over her once again. "They are no better now than they were before. Soldiers are slaves to war. Freedom is life's great lie."

"If that is what you think, then it is you who wears the chains," she snapped at him and he actually took a step back. "Bound forever to this obsession for power and dominion, as you say, is no way to live." She spread her arms wide and gave him an aggrieved look. "You speak so harshly of your family, Loki, only now I think your hatred for them is simply because they did not share your vision. You claim to crave power above all else, but truthfully you have been running from it this entire time." She stepped forward boldly, her gaze never wavering from his as she braced her hands against either of his broad shoulders. "Family is power. And love. We are lost without them. I won an army today, Loki. And I did it without forcing the hand of any slave. Every man here will fight because they are free. They may seek out their families now if they have them or create their own. They may fall in love. They have choices."

Loki's feet were glued to the ground and he found himself unable to tear away from her haunting words even as his hands shook with a new sense of clarity. "Don't you see?" she begged pulling Loki's face into her soft hands. "They will stick together, because they are one and the same. All these men, who share each other's pains and torture, will fight together. They are family."

Loki refused to believe her. His adopted family had betrayed him. His true family had abandoned him. Family were nothing but sentimental lies, born to wreak misery for his entire immortal existence.

"You truly want everything Loki?" Daenerys questioned as she cradled his jaw in her palms and gazed into his icy blue eyes. "You can have it. And one day when you inevitably lose it all, you will have nothing. Less than nothing. But this-" She reached down then and took his hand in her own, gently placing it over her heart where he could feel its steady rhythm. "-this you can hold forever as your own." His fingers splayed against her breast and the warmth of blood tingled softly against his skin.

He swallowed convulsively as his eyes darted frantically to hers but he did not pull away. He couldn't. "You will be the end of me," he vowed tugging his hands free of her chest and pulling her face to his eagerly as he captured her lips in a blazing kiss. His kiss was gentle, not like the others, but so full of passion that Daenerys worried she would burn up on the spot. His lips melded with hers so perfectly that she could feel every emotion he felt as he pressed himself against her. Hesitation, desire, anger, insecurity, sadness, passion and finally surrender.

It was him that broke the kiss, pulling away and breathing sharply as he yanked her to her feet. "Come on," he urged her, pulling her along after him, back towards the camp.

"Where are we going?" she asked breathlessly as she struggled to keep up.

"Back to your tent," he answered over his shoulder. "There are many, many things I would like to do to you in this instant, but they all require comfortable quarters. I will not make love to you in the dirt."

Daenerys smiled and did not argue as he towed her back to camp like a caveman. To say that everything was exactly as she wanted it would be a lie. But as she had said to Loki, to have everything is to risk losing it all. This was enough.

_You fascinated me__, __cloaked in shadows and secrecy__  
__the beauty of a broken angel.__  
__I ventured carefully__, __afraid of what you thought I'd be__  
__but pretty soon I was entangled._

_You take me by the hand, I question who I am._

_Teach me how to fight, I'll show you how to win,__  
__you're my mortal flaw, and I'm your fatal sin.__  
__Let me feel the sting, the pain, the burn under my skin._

_Put me to the test, I'll prove that I am strong__  
__Won't let myself believe, that what we feel is wrong__  
__I finally see what you knew was__inside me all along;__  
__that behind this soft exterior... lies a warrior._

~ (Warrior – Beth Crowley) ~

**Annnnnnd I hope that wasn't awful. Hit a bit of writer's block during this chapter but I'm back on track now. More juicy chapters to come!**


	11. Chapter 11: Gifted

Chapter 11: Gifted

_Loki_

"_Say it!"_

_Loki's cock was buried to the hilt in the woman beneath him, and she in turn was writhing in ecstasy. The silken sheets around them lay in tatters as Loki pushed Daenerys to the brink over and over. Though the night air was cool in the tent, it did little to stop the sheen of sweat that had begun to pool on his lower back. Daenerys' flat stomach glistened with perspiration as her breath came in shallow pants from their steamy lovemaking._

"_Please," she begged as her body coiled tighter, nerve endings on fire as he rocked into her yet again._

"_No," he chastised. "You know what I want. Say it." He thrust deep and held himself there as Daenerys moaned in pleasure. "I need to hear you say it. Tell me your mine." He thrust again._

"_I'm yours," she gasped as she felt his hard, throbbing length piston into her with relentless force. She felt her passion overwhelming her as he jolted within her._

"_Little dragon," he growled. "I'm losing my patience." He slowed his ministrations as Daenerys groaned beneath him, her soft hands grasping his toned bottom with fervour. "Say it right. Who do you belong to?"_

"_You, Loki," she relented, as his eyes glowed with feral possessiveness. "Only you."_

_He grunted as he began to lose his rhythm and his thrusts became more urgent. His dick began to tingle with the stirrings of his orgasm as his cum flooded his shaft. Loki gave a horse shout as the first stream of semen shot forth and into Daenerys. He continued to thrust gently against her as he emptied himself of his seed and she too reached her peak, gasping his name. He held himself above her on his elbows so he wouldn't crush her with his weight but his arms trembled with the effort it took._

"_You have ruined her," a deep masculine voice determined. Loki shoved off from the bed, moving to cover Daenerys with the blanket although she seemed unperturbed by their visitor. Loki squinted at the dark figure standing just beyond the candles lighting the entrance of the tent. "Thor?" he asked disbelievingly, mouth agape as he frowned at his brother. "No." He shook his head. "You can't be here. You can't."_

"_And yet I am, Brother," Thor threatened, stepping further into the light so that Loki could see his full Asgardian battle attire. "Had I not come, I would not have been able to spare this girl from your evil designs."_

"_My intentions with Daenerys are no business of yours," Loki snarled as he lunged for his brother only to land with a thud against the tent floor. He whirled to find his brother behind him now as Thor stood next to Daenerys who was still as naked and glorious as she had been moments ago. She stared at Loki blankly as Thor pulled her flush against him and ran a hand down her shoulder and towards her belly button. Loki shuddered with rage but found himself unable to move from his spot on the floor, forced to look up at his arrogant brother as he touched Daenerys in a rather intimate fashion._

_Thor placed a tanned palm against her belly, looking at Loki with vehemence."This will end badly, Brother," he warned him as he traced a circle against Daenerys stomach. "You must understand that. You're poison. Your progeny will be the end of her. After all, what mortal could ever love a Jotunn bastard?"_

"_I won't let that happen," Loki vowed solemnly, aghast at the idea that Daenerys could be carrying his baby. Surely it wasn't possible... "Nothing will harm her. Not even my own child. I will do what I must to ensure her safety."_

_Thor laughed openly in his face. "Then she will leave you. Do you think she could survive losing another child?" he smirked evilly even as blood began to blossom beneath the fingers that held Daenerys' chest._

"_Daenerys," Loki shouted with concern as blood pooled at her feet. She raised a bloodied hand at him._

"_Loki," she cried. She stared terrified at her belly as Thor's hand forced her stomach to expel more blood. It was positively gushing out now."I'm losing it. I'm losing our baby, help me!"_

"_You bastard," Loki spat at Thor who gave him a grim smile. "Let her go!"_

"_You did this, Brother" Thor assured him. "I'm doing her a kindness for what is to come." He then whipped out a blade and dragged it across Daenerys' neck as she choked in horror. Loki' scream was deafening._

...

"No!" Loki sat up bolt right as he gasped and shuddered in panic. His mouth opened and closed like a common gold fish for a few moments before he felt soft, feminine hands grasping at his chest. It took a few moments more to register that they belonged to Daenerys and that his brother was thankfully nowhere in sight. In reality, he was still with Daenerys in her tent and they were camped out with the Unsullied, on their way to Yunkai. It had been nigh on ten days since they departed Astapor.

"Gods, Loki," Daenerys murmured sleepily, smoothing his hair back but it remained plastered against his face. "Are you trying to wake the entire army?"His ragged breathing however only fuelled her concern and she blinked as she attempted to rouse herself properly. "What is it?"

"A dream," Loki said, astounded. "Actually more of a nightmare. But still, I haven't dreamed since..." He thought about it as he urged his breathing to slow and Daenerys waited patiently, rubbing a soothing hand against his back.

"Since when?" she prompted.

He looked at her as he willed the image of his brother to fade from his thoughts. "I don't remember." He felt another shudder rack his body as thoughts of Daenerys' murder plagued him.

"Shhhhh," she quieted him. "It was just a nightmare. It's not real."

He looked mildly annoyed then and Daenerys smiled, reassured that if he could be irritated with her childish treatment of him then he couldn't be that disturbed by the dream.

"Maybe it wasn't such a good idea to wear ourselves out before bed," she yawned as Loki settled back against the covers.

"I didn't hear any complaining," Loki smirked as his thoughts slowly returned to the living, breathing, intact Daenerys that lay beside him and not the one that lay dead in his dreams.

She shoved him softly before rolling over and giving him her back as she closed her eyes again. "Good night, Loki."

He watched her as he placed his hand against the nape of her neck, caressing the soft silver tresses that covered all of her back. He sighed not wanting to ask her the question that burned on his tongue but unable to stop himself. "Do you ever worry about getting pregnant?" he questioned softly.

Daenerys rolled over slowly to look at him again. "What?"

Loki's eyes sparkled with intense curiosity and just a hint of fear. "Does it ever concern you that our frequent sex may lead to you being with child?"

She pushed herself up slightly against the pillows and searched his face for any hint of mockery. Finding none she sighed. "Is that what you want?" she asked tensely. When Loki said nothing, she again searched his face. "I'm afraid I have to disappoint you. I can carry no child, Loki."

He stared at her, surprised and not expecting that to be her answer. "But you have carried a child," he argued. "You fell pregnant to Drogo."

She nodded in confirmation. "I did. But that was before I had dragons. My womb is no longer capable of producing a child."

Realising that this only seemed to confuse him further, she continued. "My family has wed brother with sister for generations," she explained. "Many thought it was to preserve and protect the bloodlines and thus keeping our blood, and our affinity with dragons, pure. What the history failed to document however was that once a woman possessed dragons, she was no longer capable of bearing children. Not to anyone but a man whose fire matched her own."

"Another Targaryen," Loki surmised.

"Yes. The fire of my womb now burns away all traces of seed that may be left behind by any man. Including yours."

Loki found himself both comforted and oddly disappointed by this knowledge. "And that is why your family wed brother and sister," he concluded. "So that the women may still have children and so they would have the same gifts as their parents." He smiled in relief.

Daenerys looked perplexed. "Does this news make you happy?"

Loki smiled down at her as he placed a chaste kiss against her brow. "It does not make me unhappy." Daenerys frowned at him and Loki's smile fell. "But I can see that my answer does not please you."

She gently pushed away from him as she drew the covers tighter around herself. "It's funny," she said quietly. "A month ago I would never have considered a child. Not in my lifetime, especially after losing the first. I still don't think I could. But..." She trailed off staring at Loki ashamed. "I didn't expect to meet you," she admitted in a whisper.

He gripped her hand tightly and held it against his bare chest. "True to my word," he told her firmly. "I was less than prepared to meet you. And now I have, there is no going back."

He sat against the edge of the mattress, moving to cover Daenerys with the furs as he noticed her subconsciously pulling away from him. He stood in order to pour himself some wine, the last of it in fact since their journey to Yunkai had drained their stocks. They had left the candles burning when they fell asleep and they had all but burned down to their last stubs by now. They would be out of those soon too. _A good thing we are set to arrive in Yunkai by tomorrow eve_, he thought. But travelling with an army was slow progress, particularly when said army was also toting heavy weaponry and armour.

"Are you cold?" he asked offhandedly as he noticed her shivering beneath the fur quilt.

"I don't feel the cold much," she responded.

"Are you cold now though?"

A beat. "Yes."

He shook his head at her stubbornness. _Women_. He returned to the bed, goblet in hand and an extra fur in the other as he gently laid the covers over Daenerys. She settled back, giving him a nod that she was indeed warmer now and he sat down. He watched her for a moment, ensuring she was comfortable before bending to retrieve a small vial from his fallen cloak and holding it out to Daenerys. "This is for you."

Daenerys eyed the bottle sceptically as he swirled the red contents. "What is it?" She reached out a tentative hand to take it from him.

"The blood of Master Kraznys."

Her hand recoiled in disgust. "Why do you have that?" she demanded, lip curling in revulsion.

Loki turned the vial over in his hands as he stared at her intently. "The blood of the slain, born in flames." His eyes flicked to the corner of their tent where Daenerys had nestled her dragon's egg against some hot coals. She followed his gaze before her eyes returned to his.

"We could do it now," he murmured huskily, drawing her hand into his and placing the bottle of vile liquid within her hands. "All it needs is a mother's touch. So to speak." He grinned at his own joke and Daenerys gently but firmly tugged her hand from his grip.

"It won't work," she affirmed, pushing the bottle back into his hands.

"Why not?" he asked impatiently.

"Because Master Kraznys was not my enemy," she said firmly.

Loki lips quirked in amused puzzlement. "I'm not following."

Daenerys ran her hands through the fur that covered her chest, feeling the texture and allowing the warmth to seep into her. "Master Kraznys was not my enemy. Joffrey, the Kingslayer, the False Queen, the Warlocks, _they_ are my enemies. Kraznys was nothing, merely an obstacle that was keeping me from achieving my goals. His blood will not work."

Loki tossed the vial back into his cloak. "Just when I think I have you figured out," he said bemused.

"It doesn't change the fact." She settled a hand on his arm as he fell back against the covers. "Dragons do not hatch for just any blood."

Loki smiled at her as he captured her hand in his. "I seem to recall telling _you_ that."

Daenerys' beautiful gaze roved his features. "Your eyes," she mused, touching a hand to his cheek. "Like ice."

"Funny you should say that," he told her. "Considering my heritage."

"Tell me about it," she said eagerly. "Tell me about where you're from."

"Now?" he uttered disbelievingly. "Shouldn't you rest?"

"I was resting! It was your nightmare that woke me," she accused and he smirked. "Besides I will have plenty of time for rest. Tell me."

Loki considered her for a moment before sighing and letting her settle back against his chest as he stroked lazy circles against her shoulder. He knew full well that he would have to relent eventually. "The world where I grew up is considered the jewel of its galaxy," he informed her. "But it is so very different from the world where I was born."

"Now when you say world," Daenerys interrupted. "Is that a figure of speech?"

Loki's eyes sparkled. "What do you think?"

"You said you came from the stars," she said slowly. "Are you telling me the truth, Loki?"

"Everything I have told you is no lie," he swore. "Why should I speak falsely?

"Men have many reasons for lying," she surmised.

Loki's jaw tightened and he moved so quickly that Daenerys could only yelp in surprise. He positioned her beneath him faster than she would have thought possible. "I am not like most men," he warned her. "You know as well as I do that no one else could do this for you." He thrust his hardening member against her and she gasped sharply. "Still need reassurance?" he quested.

"Maybe," she breathed huskily as his pelvic bone met hers again. "But perhaps if you told me more about your world and your family, you could erase all doubt."

Loki stared down at her with a calculating smile. "Clever girl."

He rolled off of her, staring at the ceiling of the tent. "Asgard itself is supposed to be this grand city, unlike any other. It's quite seductive, but it is all pretty lies. The place seemed much less like home when I learned that it wasn't," he said bitterly. "Not truly. Physically though... the place is beyond compare."

Daenerys looked positively awestricken as Loki began to describe the Valhalla, the Bifröst and realm of Asgard. He told her of the Aesir, the rulers of Asgard, of Odin, the King of Valhalla and eventually of Thor, his adoptive brother. "The towers of Asgard reach higher than any mortal built structure you have ever seen," he illustrated. "They shine with eternal light and the throne room is built with jewels and precious metal worth more than gold. It is said that Asgard outshines all the stars of the heavens."

"Asgard is a star?"

"More or less. It is positioned within the cosmos but it is not visible to the naked eye. It requires tremendous power to travel there and very few can make the journey."

"I cannot begin to imagine how many worlds there must be," Daenerys gushed. "The stars of heaven stretch on for eternity.

"Actually there are nine," Loki informed her. "Nine realms make up the constellation of stars where I come from. I believe the mortals of Midgard called it the Milky Way. It contains all the worlds of that galaxy, including the realm where I was born. Jotunheim."

"Yo-tun-hime..." Daenerys slowly sounded out the name. "I have never heard of it."

"That's because it is not among your stars. Yours is a new world altogether."

"But we are not the only mortal world you have visited?"

"No. I have been to Midgard as well. It too is ruled by humans. But the mortals there have become corrupt and they destroyed any desirability that their world once held. Magic does not exist there or it then it remains in the most diluted form possible. Magic cannot flourish there as it does here."

"Why not?" Daenerys asked, voice so soft and innocent that Loki could hardly bear it.

Loki contemplated his answer before responding. "It is not their way," he said at last. "Midgardians possess power in the form of science and inventions. They hide behind their metal buildings and their spy networks and call themselves advanced. What they don't know is that they _lack_ the wisdom and influence that it takes to truly be powerful. Therefore, the mortals if Midgard cannot harness magic. Believe me they know so little for a world that is actually quite old. In fact, most mortals of Midgard spend their time fantasizing about worlds such as yours."

"Mine?" Daenerys laughed is disbelief.

"Is it so surprising? Many humans on Midgard believe that magic would solve all their problems. They wouldn't know what to do with it even if they could command such power." Loki remembered the tesseract and his clash with the Avengers in New York, his teeth gnashing in agitation at the memory. "They had a taste of it once and it almost destroyed them."

Daenerys stared at him with an expression of bewilderment and sadness. "Something I said?" he asked.

"No," she answered quietly. "It's just... you know so much. How have you found the time to visit all these worlds?"

"I am immortal Daenerys, I have no shortage of time."

"What you mean to say is that you are old. Aren't you?"

Loki crossed his arms as his expression became tense. He seemed more imposing in that moment. "Does that bother you?"

"No," she said, surprised to hear the truth in her tone. "Perhaps it should, but it doesn't."

Loki leaned forward until his nose was almost touching hers. The tip gently brushed against hers and Daenerys felt a shiver break out fresh across her skin. "Good," he breathed and then he leaned back just as suddenly, allowing Daenerys to breath normally once more.

"So," she mumured. "Asgard, Midgard... what about Jotunheim?"

Loki gave a harsh laugh. "What about it? It's a frozen wasteland of chills and despair. The Frost Giants rule without mercy, not even for their own kin."

"Then it is a world of ice?"

Loki gave one jerk of his head to indicate yes. "It sounds much like the North," she said thoughtfully. "I remember from when I was a child, my father used to teach me the words of every House. I will never forget the aphorism of House Stark. _Winter is coming_."

Loki shook his head. "You don't understand. I tell you that no mortal may ever set foot in Jotunheim. They would not survive. The chill would turn your bones to brittle and your very screams would freeze in your throat."

Daenerys tilted her head. "Curious. You say that you were born there and yet you look as any mortal does."

"That is because your race was made in our image. Humans are the second evolution of our godly forms. Also, I am not limited to this form. I possess the abilities and appearance of the Frost Giants as well."

"But..." Daenerys was confused. "You do not resemble a giant. And I have seen giants."

"So it would seem," Loki snapped impulsively. "I appear more Frost than Giant, so to speak. Perhaps that is why I was not welcome there either. A runt, my own kin labelled me."

Daenerys lowered her eyes at his adverse reaction. "I didn't mean to offend you," she said quietly.

"I'm not offended," he growled. "Do not pity me. They did me a favour. I was raised in a far more superior realm of Gods, beauty and unyielding power."

"Have you ever met the Gods of this realm?" Daenerys intercepted quickly, eager to steer clear of the delicate subject.

Loki frowned. "No," he uttered. "It is possible I suppose that our paths have never crossed. Of what Gods do you speak?"

"There are many," Daenerys explained. "The Old and the New. There are the Weirwood Forest Deities who make up the Old Gods. Then there is the Faith of the Seven which derives its beliefs from the practices of those in the Andals. These are the New Gods. The Mother, the Father, Warrior, Crone, Smith, Maid and Stranger."

"And who do you follow?" Loki asked running a finger under her chin.

"I think it would be disrespectful to undermine any," she explained. "Not to mention unwise."

"Why?" Loki pointed out. "Have you seen any evidence to suggest that these Gods even give a damn about this land of fire and ice?

"Perhaps they do not wish to interfere with the workings of mortals," Daenerys defended.

"Or perhaps they do not care," Loki reasoned as Daenerys' temper flared. "Perhaps they are too busy ruling their own world. They are immortal after all."

"Maybe," Daenerys said sourly. "But then, you were not content with yours. Were you?" It was not a question. "Otherwise why would you be here?"

Loki ran his tongue across his lower lip as he avoided her penetrating gaze. "That was different. I was not welcome there."

"It was still your home," Daenerys argued but Loki slammed his hand down onto the bedspread.

"It was never my home!" he snarled. "What part of that is escaping your stubborn, inexperienced , young mind?"

Daenerys made to argue the point but Loki fired on before she could utter a word. "In what way does being a prisoner in a realm of Gods outweigh being King in a world of mortals? I was cast out from my home world, mocked in my adoptive world and treated as less than equal to the Aeris of Asgard. Now tell me self respecting God, or man for that matter, would stand for that and not try to better himself?"

"That depends on your definition of better!" Daenerys spoke carefully. "Dominion is not the right of any god, New or Old."

Loki's expression darkened. "A God does not earn his love," he said dangerously. "He demands it. He commands fear and wreaks havoc until all the world kneels at his feet. Gods rule fiercely, unprovoked and unchallenged. That is the way of the world."

"And that is why the world no longer belongs to the gods," Daenerys explicated. "They have forgotten how to rule with a heart rather than a blade."

Loki suddenly felt very weary. "Please, Daenerys," Loki said tiredly. "Go to sleep."

"I'm not tired," she said offhandedly. "Will you ever go back?"

Loki paused. "Of where do you speak?"

"Asgard."

"Did I not just say I was not welcome there?"

"But if you were," she insisted. "Would you go back?"

Loki pulled the covers up to her chin, tucking her in as one would a loved one. "Sleep."

"Loki..."

"Woman, I tell you," his voice softened. "Let it be. It's never going to happen. Not after what I did."

Loki could see she wanted to ask further questions now but he silenced her by getting up and moving to blow out the candles. "Sleep, sweet Daenerys." The room grew gradually darker until only one candle remained. Daenerys thought she saw a flash of regret cross Loki's features before he blew out the last flame, but it was possible that this was just her imagination.

...

_Daenerys_

Daenerys avoided Ser Jorah's gaze the next morning for she was sure that he had seen her emerge from her tent with Loki in tow. Ser Jorah's jaw was set in a vice as he stared in unabated fury at Loki who did not even have the decency to look ashamed. Quite the opposite in fact, he gave the older man a wink and Ser Jorah actually had to be held back by Ser Barristan briefly as they strode past.

Daenerys tried to ignore them all for she had more important matters to attend to this morning as she pulled herself onto her horse. The Unsullied had become more accustomed to life on the march and were even beginning to form tentative friendships with one another. She galloped ahead, ordering several dozen of the men to harvest corn stalks as they rode through city outskirt fields. They were nearing fertile land now and they had at last come upon a fresh water supply in the form of an old dam that had burst over the time. It belonged to Astapor originally, but the journey to and from the dam had proven tedious and so it had been left to be reclaimed by the desert. Only Yunkai had claimed it instead, using it to refresh local travellers who came by the area. Daenerys felt no guilt whatsoever in taking the water, or the nearby corn for as far as she was concerned, it was feeding the people who the Yunaki Slave Masters ignored.

Her horse slowed as she neared some of the Unsullied men who had gathered at her command. She glanced over at Ser Jorah to see if he was still giving Loki the evil eye and was pleasantly surprised to see Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan laughing between themselves as they discussed battles past. They had led their horses to the edge of the water now to drink and some of the tension in their shoulders seemed to ease. Loki was further away talking with Missandei who seemed both uncomfortable and flattered that he had deemed to even converse with her. Missandei saw Daenerys moving to speak with the Unsullied and politely excused herself from Loki's attention. She came to stand by the Khaleesi as she dismounted and handed the reins to one of her Dothraki men.

"These are the ones?" she queried Missandei as she stared at the Unsullied before her. Ten of them stepped forward immediately at her questioning gaze.

"Yes Khaleesi, the officers," Missandei answered her.

Daenerys addressed them directly in High Valryian. _"You did not choose this life. But you are free men now. And free men make their own choices. Have you selected your own leader from amongst your ranks?"_

The Unsullied men parted immediately for one lone figure who responded by planting his spear in the ground and slowly removing his helmet. Daenerys heard Loki snicker briefly at the skinny man before them and she gritted her teeth. Now was not the time to denigrate such an important moment for the Unsullied.

"_This one has the honour_," the man spoke nervously.

"_What is your name?" _Daenerys asked sharply.

"_Grey Worm_," he responded.

Daenerys stared in sympathy as she recoiled from the name. _"Grey Worm,"_ she repeated softly. She looked to Missandei with a stricken expression.

"All Unsullied boys are given new names when they are cut," Missandei explained sadly. "Grey Worm, Red Flea, Black Rat. Names that remind them of what they are. Vermin."

Daenerys' hand whipped up to swipe at a tear that threatened to fall. Her voice broke slightly as she addressed the Unsullied once more. _"From this day forward, you will choose your own names,"_ she said regally. _"You will tell your fellow soldiers to do the same. Throw away your slave name. Choose the name your parents gave you, or any other. A name that gives you pride!"_

The man called Grey Worm surprised even Loki by responding without flinching. _"Grey Worm gives me pride. It is a lucky name_," he determined. "_The name this one was born with was cursed. That was the name he had when he was taken as a slave. But Grey Worm was the name this one had the day Daenerys Stormborn set him free."_

A hush fell over the men and Daenerys felt her heart strings tug painfully at his words. He gave a slight bow of his head and stepped back. "Thank you," she said unsure of what else to say as Missandei guided her back to her horse.

"I do not want them to think that all I feel is pity for them," she said quickly to Missandei. "But I know not how they don't see it reflected in my gaze."

"Khaleesi, they never saw pity reflected in the eyes of their Masters. To see it in the eyes of someone who cares and to witness it demonstrated is a refreshing change for them," Missandei explained wisely. "You may find they appreciate it where typical men do not."

"They deserve better than what this world has dealt them," Daenerys' tone shook with anger. "I wish that they could get back what was taken from them someday. Their lives, their loved ones, all those years spent in torment. But I know it will never be so."

"Who are we to know what they will do?" Missandei said softly. "They may yet find joy."

"How?" Daenerys asked hopelessly.

"Perhaps they will find it through following the footsteps of their new Queen," Missandei voiced with a warm smile. "Beginning in Yunkai, and freeing the slaves that have known the suffering they have known."

"You speak with a clarity and wisdom beyond your years, Missandei," Daenerys commented. "Tell me, were you born as a High Blood before you were taken into slavery?"

"No, Your Grace. I was a commoner just like the Unsullied."

"And yet you are great," Daenerys said proudly. "Perhaps you are right then. Perhaps someday... they will be too."

**Whew! Another chapter done and dusted for you guys. And what can I say? You guys are awesome! So consider this my little present for you...**

**A lil sneak peak! I'm planning on introducing the baby female dragon soon and I had a name in mind... I was going to name her Asgara as in after Asgard where Loki was from.**

**BUT I have decided that I am open to suggestions from readers... feel free to post any ideas you may have in a review or a private message OR if you like the name Asgara, vote for this name! ;)**


	12. Chapter 12: A Common Purpose

Chapter 12: A Common Purpose

_Daenerys_

Swaddled in a cream silken cloak, Daenerys rode up the last sand mound that obscured Yunkai from view. The city itself rose high above the sand, the buildings almost the same colour as the desert it was built upon. Save for the high architecture however, Yunkai was fairly ordinary when it came to cities. It lacked the grandness that Daenerys was expecting having now visited both Quarth and Astapor. She knew that this was for appearance sake only for it was known that the Masters hoarded their gold and treasures whilst the majority of the city remained poor and derelict. She dismounted her white mare and brushed herself free of horse hair before stepping over the dry rocks to get a better view of the slave city.

"Yunkai," said Ser Jorah just behind her. "The Yellow City."

"The Yunkish are embezzlers, not soldiers," Ser Barristan supplied helpfully. "We can defeat them."

"On the field? With ease," Ser Jorah agreed. "But they won't meet us on the field. They have provisions, patience and strong walls."

"Then they have something we need," Loki said loudly, reigning his horse to a stop in front of Ser Jorah. He slid off his saddle, landing gracefully on his feet and also stared at the vast desert city.

"If they're wise they will hide behind those strong walls and chip away at us, man by man," Ser Jorah warned.

"I don't want half my army killed before I cross the Narrow Sea," Daenerys said tactfully.

"You don't need Yunkai, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah murmured gently. "Taking this city will not bring you any closer to Westeros or the Iron throne."

Daenerys looked at him sharply, her eyes drifting to Loki before returning once more to the Yellow City. She bit her lip in contemplation. "How many slaves are there in Yunaki?" she asked.

"Two hundred thousand, if not more," Ser Jorah responded.

Daenerys' eyes filled with regret and she let her Ser Jorah see the defiance written plainly across her face. "Then we have two hundred thousand reasons to take the city." Her voice was so soft that even Loki strained to hear it. Ser Jorah looked a somewhat ashamed under Daenerys' penetrating gaze and he lowered his head in respectful submission.

Loki pulled his lips back in a thin smile, knowing by now that once this woman's mind was set, she would see her ideas through to their end. He turned, gesturing for Grey Worm to disband from the army and to follow Daenerys' command. Grey Worm stepped forward and placed the hand holding his helmet directly across his chest, a sign of respect and a corresponding salute.

"_Send men to the city gates,"_ she spoke in High Valryian. _"Tell the slavers I will receive them here, and accept their surrender. Otherwise, Yunkai will suffer the same fate as Astapor."_

Grey Worm gave a short nod of his head, replaced his helmet and turned to the horse that was offered to him. As he rode off, Daenerys turned to her part once more.

"Should we go also, Khaleesi?" Ser Jorah quested.

"No," she replied rigidly. "I trust Grey Worm to get it done. Although I would like **you** out of sight." This she said when she addressed Loki, who looked at her with a bemused expression. "By now the Yunkai will be fully aware of my conquest of Astapor. They know I have travelled here with an army of Unsullied in tow and they also know me as the Mother of Dragons. I would like to have at least some element of surprise when it comes to negotiations." She leaned forward then and Loki's arms came around her shoulders to pull her closer as she whispered in his ear. "The last thing they would be expecting amongst my company is a God who has fallen from the sky, with eyes so mesmerising that they could charm even the burliest man."

Loki snorted softly under his breath. "Whilst I am pleased that you find my charms so endearing, you have quite ruined my appetite for eternity. I don't think I should like to charm the men you have gathered in forces. I much prefer your company," he complimented.

Daenerys placed a gentle hand against his chest. "Please just do as I ask and keep out of sight. Fetch Missandei and my dragons to me and then seclude yourself.

"As my lady commands," he breathed lightly against her cheek, letting the chill of his breath touch her flushed cheeks. "Be careful."

...

_Loki_

The Unsullied gathered a long line formation, leading from the city to at least a mile out into the desert. The masters of Yunkai sent one Diplomat upon a golden coach, and carried by several slaves, to meet with Daenerys. These slaves wore chains, carrying both the Master and some chests as they were led by a half dozen Yunkish soldiers. As the Diplomat Master passed the rows of Unsullied, Daenerys noted that the man looked nervous. This boosted her confidence further as the slaves carried the Master upon a litter to the very foot of her open tent. One of the soldiers beat a drum dramatically as the Master was carried into her tent and Daenerys raised her eyebrows in amusement. The Master slowly stepped down from his litter and stepped toward Daenerys, sizing her up as he approached. Missandei introduced the man before her however her words fell on deaf ears as Daenerys' eyes raked the Master, from his disgustingly expensive sandals all the way to his harsh and ugly hooked nose.

Daenerys herself looked breathtaking, garbed in a pearly gown of white satin which hooked around her neck and cinched in at the waist. The material hugged her form in all the right places and fell in a pool at her feet as she sat comfortably upon a plush lounge. She wore simple jewellery and her hair was adorned in its usual braids. The thing that made this vision most spectacular however was the three dragons that curled around her petite form, each nuzzling her insistently for her attention whilst directing various hisses at the intruder.

Loki watched this exchange from behind a simple gauze curtain, having made his corporeal body invisible to the mortal eye. He stood mere metres from Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan, both of whom kept darting nervous glances over their shoulders as though they sensed his subtle presence.

The dragons suddenly gave sharp shrieks from their position on Daenerys' lap and the Master recoiled fearfully. "Noble lord, you are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen. Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons." Missandei introduced her Mistress formally whilst her eyes lit up in amusement at the Master's obvious discomfort at being so close to the dragons. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan smiled also as they stood by Daenerys' side.

"You may approach," Daenerys indicated smugly with a flick of her hand. "Sit." A chair was immediately brought forward and the Master sat down rather hesitantly. Missandei offered him a glass of water which he accepted gratefully as he regarded the dragon woman before him with unrelenting caution. He took a sip as he contemplated what to say, swallowing impulsively.

Seeming to gather his bearings, he set his face in a rather stern expression, betraying no further emotion although to Loki his fear was still palpable.

"Ancient and glorious is Yunkai," the Master recited. "Our empire was old before dragons stirred in Old Valyria. Many an army have broken against our walls. You will find no easy conquest here."

Daenerys already looked bored as she rolled her eyes. Loki would have laughed if it would not give away his position. As it was, he simply bit his tongue and grinned in delight as Daenerys very casually reached into a bowl placed next to her and retrieved a large chunk of meat. The Master continued as though she were actually listening but gave an audible yelp when she tossed the meat in the air and her three dragons all dove for it at once, growling and making the Master shrink back in his chair.

"Good," Daenerys responded coolly. "My Unsullied need practice, I was told to blood them early."

"If blood is your desire, than blood shall flow," the Master gritted his teeth. "But why? It is true you have committed savageries in Astapor but the Yunkai are a forgiving and generous people." He clapped his hands then and Daenerys watched curiously as two large chests were brought forth by several slave men. "The wise masters of Yunkai have sent a gift," The Master said presumably. "For the Queen."

The chest was opened and Daenerys was met with the sparkling sheen of gold, bricks of it piled high in each chest. Whilst Loki knew Daenerys needed such gold to fund her conquests, he admired her ability to appear less than impressed as she regarded the Master.

Seeing that this was not enough, the Master tried again. "There is far more than this waiting for you on the deck of your ship."

Daenerys' eyes finally lit up with interest. "My ship?"

"Yes Khaleesi," the Master continued eagerly, seeing that he had her attention now. "As I said, we are a generous people. You shall have as many ships as you require."

"And what do you ask in return?" she demanded.

"All that we ask is that you make use of these ships," the Master said slyly. "Sail them back to Westeros where you belong and leave us to conduct our affairs in peace."

The Master was oblivious to Daenerys' mounting anger as her gaze roved the slaves that bowed before her. Her eyes flashed in unmasked fury as she noticed the chains at their necks and wrists. "I have a gift for you as well," she decided coyly. The Master sat up with a pleasurable smile. "Your life."

The Master stared at her in bewilderment. "My life?"

"And the lives of your wise masters," she continued without pause. "But I also want something in return. You will release every slave in Yunkai. Every man, woman and child should be given as much food, clothing and property as they can carry as payment for their years of servitude. Reject this gift and I shall show you no mercy."

"You are mad," the Master enunciated clearly and threateningly.

Daenerys raised her eyebrows at his pointless threat. Loki gave an inaudible hiss in fury at the man's insult but otherwise remained quiet. "We are not Astapor or Quarth," the Master spat. "We are Yunkai. And we have powerful friends. Friends who would take great pleasure in destroying you. Those who survive we shall enslave once more. Perhaps we'll make a slave of you as well," he threatened, standing to his full height.

Suddenly Drogon soared back to his place at Daenerys' side, turning his scaly head to the Master and snarling in unabashed rage. His teeth extended fully from his mouth and the spiky appendages on his back coiled and rose up like the hair on a cat. Hot saliva dripped from Drogon's mouth and Daenerys smiled appreciatively at the magnificent creature. Loki did not think it was possible for her to look more beautiful.

"You swore me safe conduct," the Master reminded her as he stepped back in alarm, surveying the great fire breather.

"I did," Daenerys conceded with a calculating smirk. "But my dragons made no promises and you threatened their mother." Her gaze was cold as the Master's eyes darted frantically between her and the beast.

"Take the gold," he ordered cowardly to his servants. The slaves stepped forward nervously, eyeing Drogon as he snapped impulsively and turned his red gaze upon them. With a sudden jolt he sent a bowl of fruit flying as he dove atop the gold, roaring and causing the slaves to fall back in terror.

"My gold," Daenerys said purposefully and Loki wanted to applaud her. "You gave it to me, remember? And I shall put it to good use. You'd be wise to do the same with my gift to you." The Master clenched and unclenched his hands as he stared at her with a searing hatred. "Now get out," she ordered. The Master whipped around without needing to be asked twice, muttering a string of Valyrian curses as he once again mounted his litter and was carried off.

"The Yunkish are a proud people," Ser Barristan pointed out. "They will not bend."

"And what happens to things that don't bend?" Daenerys suggested wittingly. She looked to Loki as he at last revealed himself and stepped out from his secluded spot. He nodded once to indicate that he had indeed heard everything.

"He said he had powerful friends," she recalled. "Who was he talking about?"

Ser Barristan looked at a loss and Ser Jorah gave a quick shake of his head. "I don't know," he said truthfully.

Daenerys' eyes darted to Loki's and he tilted his head ever so slightly. "Find out," she requested as she idly stroked Drogon's neck whilst the dragon purred appreciatively. "But do not disclose your true self to the Yunkai. Act as a traveller and have them spill what they know."

Loki stepped back, giving her a subtle wink that only she could see. "As the lady commands."

He made to leave but Daenerys stopped him. "One more thing," she appealed. Loki paused, waiting for her explanation. "Take some Dothraki men with you. As much as I hate to say it, if you are going into the slave city, you must look the part. And the Masters have not seen the Dothraki yet," she said bitterly. "Look after them."

He inclined his head. "Give me two hours."

...

Loki stood before the giant oak doors, contemplating just kicking the gates down for their insolent treatment of Daenerys but knowing full well that this would not advance their plans. He gave a slight puff of frustration, looking to his right to see if the five Dothraki were ready. The men gave him confident nods and Loki's lips twitched with hilarity. He could literally issue any insult or curse he wanted to at this moment and these men would still not understand him. They relied upon his commanding tones and forceful gestures to follow orders. Loki's shoulders shook with silent laughter as the wide oak doors opened before him.

A couple of dark-haired page boys came forward and bowed humbly. One of them began to introduce themselves in fluent Valyrian before Loki quickly cut him off. "I speak the common tongue," he spoke commandingly. "Inform your Masters that I wish to converse with those who know the language."

The smaller of the boys looked sheepishly at the other before bowing once again. "A thousand pardons, Your Lordship," he addressed Loki. "Of course we will speak in the Common Tongue of the Andals. Welcome to Yunkai."

Loki gave a predatory smile as he stepped over the threshold, his ruse having worked. Thanks to his abilities, he now appeared to be garbed in fine Slave Master clothing, a style which he had loosely adopted from the Master that had met with Daenerys. His sceptre, as before, appeared merely as a decorative walking stick. The Dothraki had only needed to make minor alterations. They kept their worn desert clothing, tearing them in a few places and simply wore head scarves to conceal their battle braids. They drew their scarves tighter around their braided hair as they followed Loki into the depths of Yunkai.

Loki's mind analysed his surroundings, taking in every detail as he was led through the bustling markets. Ser Jorah had not lied. There were slaves everywhere in Yunkai and the enslaved population seemed to far outnumber the Masters. But the slaves here were as fooled as Astapor, thinking that the Masters held the power with their expensive golden whips and their greasy oiled hair. How easy it would be to break Yunaki if the slave populace rebelled in full force. But as always, sheep needed a guiding hand.

Loki feigned to browse some of the merchandise, pausing at stalls selling weapons, food and trinkets. The markets were surprisingly grand much to Loki's satisfaction. It meant that they would have ample supplies from this city once they conquered it. One stall even toted exotic birds of varying stature, ranging from harmless colourful finches to sharp-taloned falcons and hawks.

"Would the Master like to browse?" the page boy enquired politely. "Or shall I show you to the slave sales?

Loki assumed a forceful tone as he answered the boy who was guiding him. "I will speak with your Masters first. I do not buy goods without first consulting the salesmen. How else am I to ensure that I am not being cheated of my purchase? I need to know exactly what it is that I am buying."

"At once, My Lord," the boy hastened. "This way."

He led Loki up some grander steps now and into a finely furnished entrance hall with flourishing flowers, tapestries and jewelled vases. As Loki stepped onto the plush carpet he paused for a moment and turned to the Dothraki, holding up a halting hand. The Dothraki stopped, staring at him in confusion. Loki tapped his spear firmly against the ground whilst keep his hand suspended in the air. "Stay," he ordered, feeling slightly foolish as though commanding a dog. The Dothraki seemed to understand him all the same, settling comfortably against the chairs in the hall as Loki turned and followed the page boy into a more private room.

The boy was waiting patiently next to an elderly man as Loki entered the room. "This is Master Guiyi," the page boy introduced. "He will happily assist you with anything you need and is well versed in the tongues of Valaryian and the Andals. I bid you farewell but I will be outside if there is anything else you need." The boy then gave a departing bow, leaving Loki in the presence of the Master.

Master Guiyi's eyes roved Loki's attire with interest, coming to rest on Loki's sceptre/walking stick.

"That is a fine staff," the Master commented and Loki forced a false smile to adorn his lips. "Very noble. What brings you to Yunkai, my friend?"

"Word of mouth," Loki responded easily as he plopped into a chair by a vast window. It overlooked the slave markets below whilst still providing a decent view of the ocean just beyond the city. "I travel hear to purchase more workers for my land. It would appear that the war time has taken its toll on the outskirts. Bandits have raided some of my Western properties, killing several of my men and making off with some of the young boys I had trained for combat."

"It is a sad thing indeed to have thieves still that which you worked so hard to produce," the Master sympathised. "Particularly the boys who were almost combat ready. Such a waste." His eyes lit up with greed as Loki watched the man making mental calculations as to how much gold he could squeeze from Loki. "You will find no finer prices than here, my Lord," Master Guiyi assured him. "Young and trained, they are equipped to suit your every need. You may even have girls if that is your wish." The Master gave a suggestive smile as he eyed the coin bag tied to Loki's waist. The man was beyond gluttonous.

Loki kept his cold, calculating glare trained on the Master. "I do not require whores," he replied icily. "I need workers. That is all the business I will be needing."

Master Guiyi's eyes flashed with malice for a moment but he quickly concealed it with a charming smile. "Of course. Worry not. I trust the Gods will punish those barbarians for their deeds."

Loki let his contempt for the man show on his face but the Master misinterpreted it for anger at the imagined brigands. "I did not say they escaped."

The ignorant Master's smile widened. "You killed them?"

"Oh, no" Loki said glibly. "I put them to work too."

Master Guiyi let out a roar of laughter, clapping his hands in delight as Loki felt his fury seeping out of his every pore. "What a tale! How delightful. Oh, but you simply must tell me more now," he enthused and Loki wanted to throttle him. He hated this man with every fibre of his being, everything from his loud obnoxious laughter to his oily slicked back hair.

"Another time perhaps," Loki dismissed. "How is it that you have kept your slaves contained? Your high walls can only do so much, yes?"

"We have powerful friends," Master Guiyi said, still chuckling. "They assist in keeping the slaves contained and defend us from outside threats."

"Interesting. Who might that be?" Loki queried subtly.

"They are a hired sword."

"Yes, but who?" Loki pried.

"Do not concern yourself with such matters," Master Guiyi responded. "They will not travel outside of Yunkai for other defence contracts if that is your wish. However, if you would like, we have several dozen trained fighters for sale which should do the job just fine."

Loki drummed his fingers impatiently before abruptly standing and kicking aside the chair he was sitting in, causing the Master to yelp in surprise.

"You know something?" Loki snarled getting right up in the Master's personal space as he leaned over the chair he was sitting in. MasterGuiyi shrank back from the dark God who loomed over him. "I don't have time for this. I tried to play nice but now, you will tell me what I want to know."

He opened his mouth to yell for help but Loki silenced him with a sharp right hook. Master Guiyi moaned piteously as Loki smiled evilly above him. "Good man. Now hold still, this won't..." he trailed off as the Master sniffed and blubbered before him, wiping the blood that now leaked from his mouth. "Well why lie?" Loki decided. "This will hurt like hell, actually. Prepare to be unmade."

Loki leaned forward and tapped his sceptre to the Master's chest, causing the man to give a short gasp as his eyes glazed over with a foggy shade of grey. The man ceased his pathetic whimpering and looked at Loki with a renewed reverence.

"Now that I have your attention," Loki said hypnotically, pulling his sceptre back. "Why don't you tell me about these powerful friends of yours?"

...

Loki stalked out of the building sometime later, clutching a scroll and a bag of gold which he had unburdened from the now placid Master. The Dothraki had not moved from their relative positions where Loki had left them and they stood to attention at his approach. Loki thrust the scroll into one of the Dothraki's hands and pointed back toward the city gates, indicating that he should carry the paper to Daenerys immediately. The man gave a curt nod and departed whilst the remaining four followed Loki impassively back toward the markets.

The market stalls were still bustling and several salesmen stepped directly into Loki's path, each attempting to persuade him to make a purchase. It was to their own detriment however as Loki merely shoved them out of the way as his eyes roved the alleys for the sell-swords that the Master had talked about. He had named them as the Second Sons, a mercenary group of warriors who sold their sword services to the highest bidder. Once hired however, they were loathe to break a contract unless it was truly worth their while. If Loki could find them, he'd wager they would not need to waste any gold. Even with the Second Sons, Daenerys' army far outnumbered Yunkai's defences and Loki was assured he could convince the Second Sons to vie for the winning side. Their reward would be their lives.

A scuffle to his right caught his attention and Loki noticed the distinct gleam of a sword. He froze, craning his neck around the jostling customers to get a better look at the man who wielded the weapon. He scowled with frustration however when he saw it was just a couple of slave guards tearing apart the alley. The Dothraki seemed to mirror his frustration since they were not entirely sure what Loki was looking for as he prowled the markets.

Loki stalked past a few fruit stalls, eyes still peeled for the Second Sons when he felt a rather sharp tug on his cloak. Glancing down he saw a young boy attempting to shield himself behind Loki's cloak temporarily as he crawled under a fruit cart. He could not have been more than ten. The boy hazarded a look towards the fruit cart owner, too preoccupied with getting caught to notice that the man whose cloak he clutched was bearing down upon him. He realised too late his mistake as Loki bent down and snagged the young boy by the arm.

Loki grasped the boy firmly by the arm and yanked him to his feet. The boy panicked yet oddly enough did not make a sound as he tugged fretfully at Loki's grip. "What do you think you're doing?" Loki hissed in his face. The boy said nothing and continued to struggle against Loki's tight hold.

"_Tihat!"_ the Dothraki to his right exclaimed, placing a hand on Loki's arm. "_Hazze!"_

Loki looked to where the Dothraki was gesturing and noticed that the slave guards had moved their scuffle into the street now, pulling back canvases, upturning boxes and scooting people aside as they searched for someone. Loki returned his attention to the struggling boy he held in his grasp. "You're the one they're hunting," he realised.

The boy's eyes widened, presumably at his use of the common tongue. "Please," he begged suddenly but Loki's grip only tightened as a result.

"Why are they after you?" Loki demanded, pulling him behind the cover of a crate whilst the slave guards continued their search.

"I took something of theirs," the boy murmured in fright, captivated by Loki's fierce demeanour.

"Which was?"

The boy shakily reached into his pocket and produced a small bronze key which matched the rusted cuffs around his wrists. Loki gave a grim smile. "Your freedom," he surmised. He took a moment to analyse the boy, from his dark curls to his tanned skin and ragged clothing. The boy's foreign looks resembled that of the other slaves however his hair was kept long in direct contrast of the other slaves' heads. It fell in dark waves, finishing just above his shoulders and was almost long enough to braid.

"They're going to kill me," the boy whispered in terror as Loki's gaze returned to his face. Something unusual and foreign tugged at Loki's mind and he wondered what the odd sensation was. All he knew was that if the Slave Masters found this boy it would be... bad. Was this pity?

Loki growled in irritation as he caught the eye of one of the slave guards, making a split second decision and pushing the small boy behind him. The Dothraki took the hint and herded the boy from sight, obscuring him from the view of the guards as they approached Loki.

Loki crossed his arms defensively and stared the slave guards down as they eyed him cautiously. "Is there a problem?" Loki snapped at them. "Or do you simply enjoy making a mess of the general street?"

"We have a job to perform," one of them said immediately, his voice thick with a heavy accent. He cleared his throat when he was met with Loki's famous predatory stare and hastened to add, "That is, my Lord, we are looking for a thief. A young boy, filthy and barely worth the gold it would cost to feed him. He also has a distinctive ink tattoo on his right upper arm."

"And?" Loki asked in agitation.

"And we were just wondering if perhaps you'd seen him," the guard responded nervously.

"Do I look like I've come to this city to browse for vermin?" Loki spoke harshly.

One of the taller guards stepped forward suspiciously as he noticed the Dothraki behind Loki. "Perhaps one of your men has seen him?" the first guard suggested as some of the other guards moved closer toward the Dothraki.

"My guards do not speak any language that is of use to you," Loki growled, standing to his full height and causing the tall guard to withdraw in alarm. "They can barely understand basic commands. I'm surprised that common guards such as yourself can even understand me."

The guard who spoke grew red, both in anger and embarrassment. "It is a requirement that some of us speak the common tongue so that we may converse with buyers such as yourself. We have a translator for every squad."

"Fascinating," Loki said sarcastically. "But unless there is anything else..."

The guards did not look entirely convinced but nonetheless they began to slowly back away. "If you see him... he belongs to the Masters."

"I'll keep that in mind," Loki said dismissively. As the guards departed, Loki returned his attention to the boy. He peered up at Loki through heavily hooded eyes and Loki wondered when was the last time the boy ate. "They're gone," he assured the boy, feeling the odd urge to comfort him on some level.

The boy stood on shaky legs, glancing at the Dothraki men who had kept him hidden with their muscular bodies then back to the man who had sent the guards on their way. "Thank you," he murmured in sheer gratitude.

"Do you have a name?" Loki asked, placing a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder as the child struggled to stay upright, dizzy from over exerting himself.

The boy mumbled a reply that was barely audible, even to Loki's ears. "Kadikh Kazga."

The Dothraki had leaned close in order to hear the boy's response however they all pulled back sharply, muttering hastily between one another and pointing at the boy. "And what has you lot riled up all of a sudden?" Loki rumbled in annoyance, though he didn't truly expect an answer.

"My name is of Dothraki origins," the boy supplied quietly and Loki glanced at him in surprise. "I know of no other men who wear their hair in braids such as theirs." The boy indicated toward the Dothraki.

"Indeed?" Loki intoned pleasantly. "You are Dothraki then, Kad... Kad..." Loki trailed off. "You may have to repeat that."

"I am Kadikh Kazga," the boy said with more confidence this time. "But I am sometimes also known as Kaz."

"Well Kaz, you may yet have your chance to prove how appreciative you are," Loki said purposefully. "You'll be accompanying us outside the city." Loki marched the boy back through the street with the Dothraki in tow, being careful to avoid the guards as they neared the city gates once more. The boy did not put up a fight now and seemed eager to get beyond the city boundaries.

"Where are we going?" was his only question as he was guided toward the great oak doors.

"To see someone who I'm sure you'll be excited to meet," Loki promised. "The Khaleesi of the Dothraki Great Grass Sea."

...

**I worked tirelessly to get this one out to you guys quickly! I was going to wait until I had two chapters because this one is merely a prelude into what is to come but I know how patient readers can be (not very if you are anything like me!) haha so I am giving it to you early. More soon!**


	13. Chapter 13: Choices

Chapter 13: Choices

_Daenerys_

"The Second Sons?" Daenerys echoed as Loki stood before her, having returned to her tent and looking decidedly ridiculous dressed in bright Slaver's clothes. He frowned slightly when he caught her amused stare and glanced down at his attire.

He gave a snort of exasperation, waving an arm and letting the illusion drop so that he was once again garbed in black warrior garments. "I'd forgotten about that," he muttered. He cleared his throat once more. "Yes, that was what the Master called them. He seemed loath to reveal that fact but I persuaded him otherwise."

"I bet," Ser Jorah sniped from behind Daenerys. Loki did not look angry in the least. Oddly enough he seemed smug, no doubt proud of his abilities of persuasion.

Daenerys turned her head slightly but did not look directly at her Queensguard Knight. "Ser Jorah?"

"Your pardon, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah intoned. "I have heard of these Second Sons. They are a sell-sword company and, though they fight well, they would be no match for the Unsullied, even if the numbers were even."

"Ser Jorah is right," Ser Barristan agreed. "They fight for gold but if that gold is not worth their lives, you may not even have to fight them."

"We shan't be dissuaded then," Daenerys affirmed. She reached for a ripe peach in the fruit bowl next to her as she gave Loki a warm smile. "Is that all?" she asked, noticing that he did not move.

Loki shifted back slightly. "There is something else." He moved aside, revealing a small boy gazing around the lavish tent furnishings in wonder. His eyes widened to impossible proportions as he saw Daenerys staring down at him.

Daenerys positively beamed in the presence of the child and she took a step towards him but stopped immediately as he fell to his knees. "Khaleesi," he addressed her, eyes downcast.

"Oh no, there is no need for that," Daenerys hushed, bending to usher the boy to his feet. She noticed him eyeing the peach in her hand and held it out to him. "Are you hungry?" The boy shook his head quickly and stepped back as though it would burn him but Daenerys gave a playful smirk and tossed it to him. His immediate reaction was to catch it and he looked at Daenerys questioningly, a timid smile playing at the corner of his lips. "It's yours," she told him.

"What is this?" Ser Jorah demanded, turning on Loki.

"Well Ser Jorah, I know you're eyes must be failing you in your older age but it looks to me that it might be a _boy_," Loki gibed.

"That is not what I mean—"

"I know what you meant."

"Why is he here?"

The men began to argue and Daenerys chose to pointedly ignore them. The boy stared at her mesmerised. "You're the Mother of Dragons," he blurted. "They talk about you in Yunkai."

"I am," Daenerys assured him. "But that's not what you called me..."

He understood immediately. "I know you to be a Khaleesi," he admitted as he played with the peach, hesitating to eat it although his mouth watered to take a bite. "I heard the Knight say it."

"Eat," Daenerys encouraged and the boy finally sunk his teeth into the plump fruit. As he devoured the peach flesh hungrily, Daenerys browsed his features, taking in his dark wavy hair and his bronzed skin. "What is your name?" she asked quietly.

The boy swallowed heartily. "I am named Kadikh Kazga."

Daenerys froze. "Black Animal," she whispered. "That is your name?" The boy nodded slowly.

Daenerys stood and turned. "You found him in Yunkai?" she addressed Loki as he and Ser Jorah finally stopped bickering.

"Yes," Loki answered her, still glaring at Ser Jorah. "Running from guards. His name is Kadikh Kazga. Your Dothraki acted like that meant something."

Daenerys bit her lip. "It _would_ mean something to them. It is a Dothraki name. It means Black Animal or loosely translates to Animal of Darkness." She turned to regard the boy again. "If Yunkai are enslaving Dothraki, their influence has spread further than we thought." 

She bent once more to Kadikh Kazga. "How is it that you came to speak the common tongue?" she asked kindly.

"I am only half Dothraki," he explained nervously. "My father was Dothraki. My mother was from Westeros... once. She taught me. She came to Essos looking for work and could not make it out before the city she was in was sacked by Dothraki hordes. One of them took her as a wife."

Daenerys felt her heart go out to his young soul. "Where is she now?"

"Dead."

Daenerys lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry," she said sincerely. "But you don't have to be afraid. You are in no danger here. We do not keep slaves."

Kadikh Kazga gave her a confused look. "But you are a Khaleesi," he said perplexed. "A Dothraki Queen always has slaves."

"Not this one," Daenerys vowed. "Times have changed, Kadikh Kazga."

The boy suddenly gave her a proud smile, hands on his hips and puffed out his chest. "You can call me Kaz."

Loki let out a bark of laughter as he witnessed the early blossoming of a crush before his very eyes. This boy had fire, just like Daenerys. And if he was not mistaken, this boy was rather taken with her.

Kaz fidgeted slightly as he noticed all eyes on him. "What will you do with me?"

Daenerys contemplated him for a moment before turning to Ser Jorah. "Fetch Missandei to me."

Ser Jorah left immediately and returned a few minutes later with Missandei who glanced at the boy curiously before giving a slight bow to Daenerys. "You asked to see me, Your Grace."

Daenerys gestured for Kaz to come forward, taking his hand gently and presenting him to her handmaiden. "Kaz, this is Missandei. She has a flair for languages and cultural customs. I'm sure she could show you a thing or two."

Missandei looked positively intrigued as she smiled warmly at Kaz. "It is a pleasure to meet you. I'm afraid the Khaleesi may be exaggerating my talents however."

Daenerys laughed. "I most certainly am not exaggerating. Kaz here is half Dothraki. I believe he may share your talent for languages, and at such a young age."

Missandei looked at him in astonishment. "Do you also speak Dothraki?"

Kaz was evidently not used to such attention however it was obvious to Loki that he was very much enjoying it. "Yes," he said proudly. "And the Masters also taught me Old Ghiscari although I find it a harder language to learn than the others."

Daenerys looked at Missandei questioningly. "It is an old slave language," Missandei explained. "Not used very commonly these days but in some parts it is the only language that the slaves know."

Daenerys curled her lip disdainfully at the mention of slaves before returning her attention to Kaz. "How would you like to learn Old Valaryian?" she offered. It was as if Daenerys had said the magic words.

"Will I get to see your dragons as well?" he asked with such enthusiasm, it made Daenerys smile to see such innocence. She looked at Loki and he raised an eyebrow at her. She gazed back at Kaz and shook her head.

"Not right now. I have sent them out hunting so that they will not disturb the people of Yunkai while we visit," she admitted and the boy's face fell ever so slightly. "Missandei," she said, unable to resist Kaz's large doe eyes. "I believe we have books in my tent? Books about dragons," she said deliberately, watching the boy's face light up. "Perhaps Kaz would like to read about them until they return?"

Missandei smiled, giving a short bow and led Kaz back to her tent with the young boy practically bouncing on his feet in excitement.

Ser Jorah crossed his arms in disapproval once they were clear of earshot. "Did you even think for a moment that you might be putting the Khaleesi in danger by bringing a slave here?" he asked, whirling to face Loki. "Especially one that is wanted by the guards?"

Loki growled a warning but before he could utter a retort, Daenerys herself turned on Ser Jorah. "And what do you propose Loki should do? Send him back?" she demanded angrily.

"Of course not," Ser Jorah said a little too quickly. "But what then? You intend to keep him?"

Daenerys felt her patience leaving her. "I cannot keep him. He is a boy not a possession. He has no family or if he does they are not in Yunkai. Therefore he will remain with us for as long as he wishes or until we find a better place for him. And there will be no debating the matter."

She took a deep breath. "Now, I'm going to have a look at these so called Second Sons. If Yunkai thinks we are enough of a threat, then I anticipate their mercenaries will be arriving very shortly."

...

Dirt and sand wafted through the air as the Second Sons rode into Yunkai. No man seemed to be without a horse and, like Yunkai, these men brought slaves with them.

"Men who fight for gold know neither honour nor loyalty," Ser Barristan commented dryly as they watched the Second Sons gallop past, oblivious to their position behind the dunes. "They cannot be trusted." Daenerys and her companions were clothed in dusky rags to obscure themselves in the sand dunes whilst they observed the opposition gather their forces.

"Whereas men who kill for the thrill of it are so much more honourable," Loki said sarcastically drawing a small smile from Daenerys.

"They can be trusted enough to kill you if they're well paid," Ser Jorah said bitterly. "And the Yunkish are paying them well."

"So they _are_ the Second Sons," Daenerys determined as she watched the desert invaders ride past on strong bred horses and toting impressive weaponry.

"Aye," Ser Barristan answered. "I would have known their broken swords and banners in an instant, even if Loki had not been able to ascertain their involvement earlier. They are led by a man called Mero Braavos, better known as the Titan's Bastard."

"Is he more titan or bastard?" Daenerys snickered but both Ser Barristan and Ser Jorah looked at her grimly.

"He's a dangerous man, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah warned her. "They all are." Daenerys looked between the men, her eyes darting briefly to Loki's but even he seemed content to be cautious.

"How many?" Daenerys asked, her tone more serious this time.

"Two thousand, Your Grace," Ser Barristan responded. "Hardly enough against us."

"But enough to make a difference?" Daenerys wanted to be sure. Ser Barristan conceded with a nod, shooting the desert riders a venomous glare. Daenerys seemed to consider her options as Loki watched her closely.

"It's hard to collect wages from a corpse," Loki suggested darkly. "I'm sure even the Second Sons might prefer to fight for the winning side." Daenerys looked hopefully at Ser Jorah for his thoughts and her anticipation grew when she saw that he was impressed by Loki's suggestion.

"I imagine Loki's right," he said in full support. "The more fights they win, the better their reputations precede them."

"Let's talk to the Titan's Bastard about winning," Daenerys voiced with conviction. She turned to Grey Worm who stood behind her, awaiting command. "See that it's done," she commented. "Tomorrow." Grey Worm gave a dutiful nod as he too eyed the strange men, not at all impressed by their fortitude to fight for gold.

"The Titan's Bastard may not agree to meet," Ser Barristan reminded her as Daenerys returned her gaze to the crafty Second Sons.

"He will," Daenerys alleged with certainty. "A man who fights for gold can't afford to lose to a girl."

Daenerys turned to her company. "Get comfortable for tonight. We may be at war as soon as tomorrow."

As Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan gave short bows and departed, Loki came to stand by Daenerys as she continued to watch the mercenaries in their camps.

"Look at them," she said with disgust. "How can men fight for gold-_kill_ -for gold?"

"Men are born into this world with certain gifts," Loki surmised. "If that gift is a penchant for killing people, why not charge them for what all it is worth?"

Daenerys glanced at Loki with a frown though she looked more amused than angry. "A typical male response. Surely men have talent for practices other than killing?"

Loki leaned forward from behind her and brushed the hair off her neck, laying a feather light kiss against her collarbone. "I can think of a few things," he murmured huskily against her silken skin. Daenerys raised a hand and gently caressed his cheek as he continued to lay a path of kisses down the side of her neck.

"We can't have our focus split," Daenerys whispered after a few moments. "Not tonight. We have to be prepared for an early attack."

"They won't try anything tonight," Loki assured her but he leaned back all the same. "That would be reckless and would certainly result in their deaths, all of them. Like you said, men who fight for gold can't afford to lose to a girl. But then-" Loki gave a knowing grin as he drew his thumb across his lower lip in contemplation. "You are so much more than a girl. No, they won't risk going up against the Mother of Dragons, not without insurance. So they will agree to meet." He gestured toward the mercenary camp. "If they decide to try anything, that will be their opportunity. But not to worry, you have me."

Daenerys blinked and rolled her eyes. "Aren't I lucky?"

Loki's lips quirked but other than that he ignored her comment. "You should let the men drink tonight, Daenerys. Not enough to dull the senses but it would be kind to allow them some manner of enjoyment before they put their lives on the line."

"I'm shocked to hear you of all people saying that," Daenerys commented in surprise. "Weren't you the one who wished for me to rule with an iron fist? That fear was far better than compassion?"

"Would you have listened?" Loki asked wryly. Daenerys just smiled at him. "As I thought. In any case, if you ruled without your compassion, well... then you wouldn't be who you are. I wouldn't change that."

"We need to return to camp," Daenerys said, still smiling. "I believe you spoke of the men... preparing."

...

At dusk, Daenerys stood at the mouth of her tent watching the sun set over the dunes. Back when Drogo was alive, she would always wait for this moment. For the moment when he would let the warrior facade drop and he was just her sun and stars. He would come to her, holding her close as the cosmos opened up and the sunset bled into the night sky. _"Look, Moon of my Life,"_ he would tell her in Dothraki, his large hands holding hers as he directed her delicate fingers to point at all the constellations. _"The stars have all clambered to your presence. But you must be careful, for your beauty could charm the Gods from heaven. We wouldn't want the stars to fall in their haste to shine just for your presence."_

The memory made her smile now, but not in sadness. She never knew Drogo's words to be prophetic but how could she deny them now as Loki stood before her, a true God fallen from the heavens? She watched Loki even now as he conversed with Missandei while Ser Jorah cursed several times trying to light the pile of wood before him. She laughed softly to herself as Grey Worm gently took the two stones that Ser Jorah was adamantly trying to rub together as he showed him how to chafe the rocks properly in order to light the dry grass. A few moments later and Daenerys could feel the soft glow of embers from several feet away. She chanced a glance at Loki again to find him watching her intently, the newly lit fire casting an eerie glow against his pale complexion. He jerked his head towards the fire, indicating for her to take a seat and she obliged, all the while watching as the dark shadows of the fire danced across his skin.

Missandei moved to sit on one of the logs they had placed strategically by the fire in an attempt to get warm. She turned briefly when Ser Jorah dropped a warm fur around her shoulders as she smiled at him appreciatively. Daenerys sat by her side, pleased to see that Missandei had acclimated well to her company. She truly did value the companionship of another female and she was reminded of that as Missandei immediately complimented her attire.

"You look beautiful, Khaleesi," she gushed, indicating the dark silver and navy dress that Daenerys wore. It had a large slit going up her right calve and thigh which made it easier to put her boots on but also gave the fashionable cut of Westeros warrior garbs. Daenerys never forgot the clothing style of where she was born and wore it as proudly and as often as she could.

"As always," Loki whispered in her ear as he passed behind her to sit on her other side. Daenerys shot him a look of mock pride before turning to Missandei. "Thank you, Missandei. You also look quite lovely. Westeros clothing suits you," she commented, making Missandei blush prettily. It was the truth too. Missandei looked much more becoming dressed in a cream and blue dress fit for travel but far more luxurious and attractive than the revealing clothes she had been forced to wear in Astapor.

Daenerys took a moment to admire her surroundings, her travelling party, her advisors, her friends and even - though she was hesitant to admit it - her lover all gathered around the flames. It had been quite some time since they had allowed themselves to take some enjoyment from their travels instead of constantly being on edge, planning their next move in Slaver's Bay or Daenerys' intended conquest of Westeros. They were all fairly quiet as this dawning realisation sunk in and everyone visibly relaxed. Daenerys could feel the tension seeping off of her ever so slightly and she smiled at Loki as he relished the same feeling. Her only complaint was that it was awkwardly quiet, save for the soft neighing of the horses and the distant growls of her dragons as they wrestled somewhere off in the darkness.

"Isn't this usually the part where we start trading war stories?" Ser Jorah joked, breaking the silence as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat next to Ser Barristan.

"Do you know any?" Loki shot back sarcastically. Ser Jorah grumbled and clenched and unclenched his fist as he eyed Loki in warning. Daenerys crossed her arms in irritation, not at all in the mood for their bickering especially since this was the first chance she had had in a long time to simply enjoy the stars and the warmth of roaring fire. Unpredictably it was Missandei who came to the rescue, her soft feminine voice cutting across the adamant dispute of the men.

"Where I am from, my people used to tell each other legends and stories during times of crisis," she enlightened as everyone quieted, listening to her soft explanation. "They said that it was always a comfort to know what fate has in store for us, even if it's not always what we think. Because the future is not set... it can change."

"I believe I have heard all the legends of Westeros and Essos that can be told by men," Ser Barristan remarked as he heaved some more wood into the fire before falling back into his seat. "They are all very much the same, consisting of fire and bloodshed and the return of the Gods someday. Stories like that have been around since the First Men."

"That is one thing which has always fascinated me about mortal kind," Loki said thoughtfully, making Daenerys and the others turn to face him curiously. "You have so many stories to explain your own destinies and the beginning of mankind, yet most of them are pretentious fables. They do not even come close to the real explanations for how your world came about or what fate has in store for you. And then, there are some prophecies and legends that are so ingrained in truth, it is as though the world was written from the pages of a book." Daenerys could hardly argue with that. She had seen proof of this in the very hymn that was written on the walls of Astapor, foretelling the birth of dragons and even the passing of the red comet.

"It is a somewhat amusing pastime of mine," Loki admitted with a cheeky grin. "Determining the deceivers from those who possess real power. You can never know for sure, not until you have seen those people naked and exposed." In Daenerys' case, he meant this quite literally and she blushed as she grasped his full meaning, trying not to look at him. "In any case," Loki smirked. "All legends have their place in the world. Whether it be truth or prophecy or even a warning against what may happen. Knowledge is power."

"Well put, Loki," Ser Barristan said heartily, raising his goblet of wine to toast him. "Perhaps you would care to share one of your favourites from your travels? You seem to be a most educated man."

Loki, to Daenerys' utter amusement, looked positively taken aback and even a tad embarrassed as he quickly reputed Ser Barristan's request. "I don't think so," he said hastily. "I'm not one for sharing war stories or campfire legends."

"Well that's not exactly true," Daenerys said slyly as Loki shot her a reproachful look. "You've told me many things about the places you've seen. The beauty of the realms has no boundaries. There must be something that you can share with us."

Loki looked around at the eager faces of his companions, the interest and curiosity pouring of off them without restraint. "You're not helping," he hissed at Daenerys.

"Not trying to be," she whispered back. "Come on. Surely you can indulge us in one story? Something that even you find interesting?"

Loki sighed in resignation. "I can't believe I'm agreeing to this," he grumbled resentfully as he threw a small twig into the flames in defeat. He glanced at them all once more as they waited patiently, curious and open minded. "I suppose one of the legends that I appreciated was ironically one that I heard in Germany."

He paused immediately as Ser Jorah, Ser Barristan and Missandei interrupted, all asking in unison, "What's Germany?"

"Oh, Hells," Loki cursed in exasperation. "Does it matter? It's a place I have travelled to before and I doubt any of you would have heard of it. Can we leave it at that?"

Missandei apologised immediately, her eyes downcast and submissive. "Your pardon, my Lord. Please continue."

Daenerys smiled as she saw Missandei apologise rather quickly, betraying her eagerness to hear Loki's tale. Perhaps the girl had not had the chance to listen to many fables since she was taken into slavery, though it was evidently something she enjoyed.

"The legend is that of a woman who supposedly threw herself down to the rocks of the river Rhine in anguish over the betrayal of her lover," Loki illustrated and even Daenerys found herself becoming intrigued by the prologue. "She perished there between the rocks as the waves beat against her body, haunting the river Rhine forevermore and punishing men who have been unfaithful to their women. The folk who tell this tale have even composed a sea shanty in honour of the legendary woman. Her name was Loreley."

...

_Loreley_

_For their once was a maiden of beauty beyond compare, of heart so pure and soul so innocent that she shone with angelic light. Many wished to possess her, yet her heart, she vowed, could be gifted to only one man. She searched and she searched for years upon years until at last she found her soul mate, a gentleman whom she believed to be her equal in every way. But the heart is as sinful as men and this one gave his out to many._

_The woman's love blinded her to her lover's unfaithfulness and she truly believed him when he told her they would be together until the end of time. She had convinced herself that he would not wed her purely because she was not yet with child and she believed that if she was patient, she would come to bear the fruit of their passionate labours._

_But a child they could not conceive for unbeknownst to the woman, her lover was infertile and his promises of her conceiving children one day would never come to pass. He was unfaithful in all the ways a lover should never be and it was his deceitful curse which would soon be hers._

_One night as she was returning from the river Rhine from whence she had been admiring some chiselled shells, she found him in bed with another woman. Heartbroken, disgraced and betrayed, she gave a great wail, letting the gathered shells fall from her dress and shatter against the cold stone floor. Picking up her skirts, she fled, ignoring the malevolent calls of her lover behind her as she tore through the woods, sticks and sharp stones cutting deep into her feet and legs but still she ran on. She neither paused nor slowed until she reached her destination, the narrow and dangerous cut of the river Rhine._

_She held herself over the edge, gazing into the black swirling depths, eager to end her torment yet still afraid she would be swallowed within the chasm. Her heart felt as empty as the drop beneath her feet and she knew she would surely sink, for her fiery spirit had deserted her and her soul had turned to stone. It was then that she heard it, the soft, haunting, melodious music, drifting up from the waves and easing the pain that tore at her hardened soul. She leaned out further, held only by a slim branch which prevented her fall but was becoming precariously thin as she leaned out further still. The music was so beautiful it made her heart ache, not for her lover but for a longing to join the haunting tones that sounded from below. _

_In her heart she knew she could never forgive this betrayal for how could she ever learn to trust, to love another man again? She found her resolve in that moment and vowed that she would never again know the sadness that men had caused her. As her heart turned cold, her betrayal became her stronghold and her despair turned into steely determination. Men would soon know the same heartache, the same empty feelings that she had been forced to endure and in their last moments, they would despair for the lives that they would never live. Tears in her eyes, but head held high, the beauty flung herself off the ragged cliffs, plummeting sharply into the rocks below and was greeted with the cool, comforting arms of the sea. And so came the passing of the lovely Loreley, lover betrayed, maiden fair and daughter of the river Rhine._

_It was never established whether it was the fall, the drowning or the rocks that killed her, but her pale body was never recovered. Strange it would seem now to think that the music she heard was simply the quiet murmuring of the rocks below, singing with the waves as they washed against the stones. Murmuring rocks or not, there are many that swear they have heard a maiden sing as they sail by on the river Rhine and some even claim to have seen a ghostly spectral of a striking woman, combing out her hair and laid out on the silver stones._

_There has been no shortage of sailors and captains who have dashed their ships upon the rocks over the years, perishing either by fall or by drowning as they attempt to follow the chilling music that assails their ears. Is it rocks or is it betrayal that calls lost men to their deaths? The only ones who know for certain lay at the bottom of the Rhine. It must be said that if the maiden does dwell there, any man would be wise not to attempt to conceal a disloyal heart from her for she will reveal it to the world and take your soul to the depths as payment for your betrayal. And thus you will ever reside with Loreley in the river Rhine..._

...

_Daenerys and Loki_

"That is the saddest tale that I have ever heard," Daenerys voiced in dismay. "So beautiful and so tragic."

"Perhaps you can see why it is a favourite among the folk who tell it," Loki agreed. "Though I am sure you have heard more tragic than that."

Daenerys shook her head. "Truthfully, I have not. Even the hymn of the lovers of the Doom bears me less sadness than this." She looked to Missandei to see the same grief stricken expression mirrored in her face. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan looked at a loss for words, unsure if anything they said would be of any help to the situation.

Loki looked between the girls, alarmed. "Ladies, please remember this is a story. It is just an old legend derived to give cause for sailors and travellers to be weary of the cliffs."

Ser Barristan placed a reassuring hand against Missandei's shoulder. "There you see? It is just an old fable, probably a lesson for old men like me who are looking to be travelling on the waters any time soon. The evil that dwells there is just folklore."

Missandei looked a little less depressed at those words and Daenerys gave her an encouraging smile. Loki looked like he was trying not to laugh for he knew it would upset them further but he could barely contain his amusement at their expense. "Truly, you are such _women_. I tell you again, it is just a story. Do not fret. Even if there were any truth to it, the people of the story would be long deceased. Why mourn for them now? What makes this story any more tragic than others you have heard?"

Daenerys took a deep breath, knowing the truth in his words but felt compelled to explain her sadness all the same. "Because it is the story of every woman who has ever been betrayed," Daenerys voiced with regret. "It is the demise which although not all betrayed wives will face, many of them will crave. The lovers of the Doom were greeted into the arms of death with grace, having died together for love and devotion. Their death, while untimely, was no cause for revenge or a disturbed afterlife. This Loreley threw herself willingly into the chasm in despair, you say? That she was content to live out an eternity of her curse for she no longer found any joy left in living? Of course there is cause to mourn. How could you not?"

Loki made to tell her _again_ that the story was just that; a story, when Daenerys cut him off. "But I know why you admire the tale," she said quickly, her eyes darting to his. "I understand. Tragedies breed courage. Your legend could be very easily misinterpreted." She sat up a little straighter then, feeling surer of her words by the second. "I think this woman threw herself off the cliffs not as an act of despair but of defiance. Now all women who ever face the betrayal of a lover will know that there is one who did not stand for it. She spent the rest of eternity punishing adulterous lovers and luring them into the same chasm as punishment for their disloyalty. No doubt extreme but still, it is an honourable lesson for all those who seek to be unfaithful." Daenerys looked directly at Ser Barristan. "Loreley was not evil. She just had her heart broken."

"It is easy to see why you are a Queen, Khaleesi," Ser Barristan voiced approvingly whilst Ser Jorah looked on proudly. He had known this about her since he had chosen to follow her. "You see the good in people, even when it would seem that their acts are treacherous."

"It is not that," Daenerys said seriously, gazing into the flames. "I just believe that everyone has cause to be the way they are. And so they can be saved."

Loki could feel the heavy lump in his stomach at her words, and Daenerys looked at him inquisitively as he avoided her gaze. "Not all," Loki growled disdainfully.

"Are you truly going to be judgemental of the way she treats her enemies?" Ser Jorah demanded harshly as the fire outlined the fury etched in his features. "After what I've seen you're capable of?" Loki bared his teeth as Ser Jorah reminded him of the Slave Master he had murdered.

"Ser Jorah, that is enough," Daenerys glared at him. "This isn't the time or the place." Missandei and Ser Barristan could feel the tension returning to the group as they shifted uncomfortably.

"You're wrong," Loki spoke severely as Daenerys turned her glare upon him. "You truly think everyone can be saved? It isn't possible."

"No," Daenerys agreed softly. "Not everyone." Loki dropped his head, his anger his only solace since he had known what her answer would be when he asked. "Only those who want to be."

His head snapped up at her final remark and he stared into her eyes to see that she was deadly serious. The fire was not just reflected in her eyes as it was the others. It **burned** behind her irises, bright and fierce. Loki could see the very Doom she spoke of - his own.

Daenerys turned from him to find everyone staring at her in bemusement and Missandei gave her a meaningful, perceptive smile. Daenerys blushed under her knowing gaze, aware that Missandei knew _exactly_ what was going on between her and Loki, so she instead looked to see Loki's reaction. He was staring into the fire, his eyes empty and his face expressionless. She had never seen him appear so vulnerable and it scared her. Ser Jorah was gazing murderously at Loki and did not seem to notice that same vacant expression that she saw.

She cleared her throat in an attempt to draw the attention away from her and Loki. "Uh, Missandei, where is Kaz?" she asked distractingly. Missandei started as though just now realising his absence and quickly gazed around the camp.

"I left him in my tent some time ago to translate some High Valaryian notes. He's quite good," she remarked. As Daenerys gazed off in the direction of Missandei's tent, the other woman followed her stare pointedly. "Shall I fetch him for you, Khaleesi?" she offered but Daenerys shook her head.

"No that's alright," Daenerys said with relief standing quickly, happy for an excuse to get away from prying eyes. "I'll see to him." She strode past the others at the fire, shooting Loki one last glance but he was still gazing into the fathomless depths of the flames.

...

_Daenerys_

"Kaz?" Daenerys called softly, pushing aside the flapping to Missandei's tent. The boy looked up from the large text he had sprawled before him on the cushions, a large grin adorning his features at her approach.

"Khaleesi!" he exclaimed with excitement, sitting up immediately. "Missandei gave me this book to read after teaching me some Valaryian. I think I'm starting to understand some of the words!"

"That's terrific," Daenerys enthused, coming to sit beside him. "Now how about joining us at the campfire? We'd love to have your company." Seeing the boy's disappointed expression, she chuckled. "You can bring the book if you like and show me what you've learnt?" she offered, causing him to beam again.

"They were right," Kaz said happily. "You can teach me so much. I'm glad I found you." He gave her a mighty hug then and Daenerys felt her heart pull, wishing for a moment that it was her own child that she held in her arms.

She gave a timid smile as she gently embraced him before pulling away. "Missandei told you that I would teach you?" she laughed. "I think she would be a better teacher as far as languages. Although I suppose I am fairly adept with Valaryian."

"Not Missandei," he said with a cheeky grin. "Pyat! He and his friend gave me the keys to my restraints in Yunkai! They told me to run and that they would help me because I was chosen. They said if I found you, I would learn everything I needed to. Because you are chosen too! The Lord of Light has plans for us."

Daenerys' smile fell and suddenly coldness seeped across her skin. The name sounded faintly familiar and, if judging by the dread creeping across her spine, it was not a good thing. "What are you talking about?" she said quickly, grabbing his arm urgently. "What men?"

"I told you," Kaz said with puzzlement, not understanding her alarm. "His name is Pyat. He said that you knew him." He stood then, grasping Daenerys' palms. "That's okay. Come meet him and you will understand." He pulled Daenerys to her feet and attempted to tug her along after him.

Daenerys pulled his hand back firmly, and he turned to her confused. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Daenerys bent down to his level, still holding firmly to his hand. "Kaz this is important," she stressed to him. "You have to tell me what these men looked like. Right now."

Before the boy could reply, a dark silhouette looming beyond the doorway caught her eye. The breeze caught the gauzy tent flap, blowing it aside to reveal a cloaked figure, seeping sinister shadows into the room. Daenerys recoiled from the impending darkness, and held Kaz's shoulders protectively. "Who are you?" she cried daringly. "What are you doing here?"

The dark figure shook with what she assumed was silent laughter and two grisly arms raised from inside the cloak to push aside the hood. Daenerys saw pale gray eyes and blue lips as the being smirked at her.

"You," she whispered scathingly.

...

_Loki_

Despite gazing into the glowing embers and pointedly ignoring Daenerys as she left to seek out Kaz, Loki felt the lump in his stomach morph into ice as he turned his head quizzically. He stared into the darkness behind him, squinting suspiciously and feeling something was awry, knowing that the area behind him had been visible only moments before. Now the darkness beyond the campfire was overwhelming.

Something was wrong. A chill had crept into the camp despite the well lit fires surrounding most of the tents and since the source was not Loki, he knew that a threat loomed. His superb hearing suddenly picked up the irate calls of Daenerys' dragons and he stood abruptly, startling Missandei as he stalked past in the direction Daenerys had gone.

"Where are you going?" Ser Jorah called irritably but Loki continued without pause.

"Draw your blades," was all he said as he started running toward Missandei's tent. He could hear the knights clamber to their feet and unsheathe their swords but he could have cared less as he bolted towards the tent. Among the chatter of the Unsullied who were by their own fires, and watched him with prying eyes as he blazed past, he could hear the fearsome growls of the dragons.

Loki burst into Missaandei's tent at the same time Drogon gave an audible roar and tore through the tent material to his right, snarling and snorting smoke. Loki glared around the tent, finding nothing out of order except for its evident emptiness. "Daenerys," he growled, his eyes raking the floor, the bed, the walls and ceiling as Rhaegal and Viseryion joined their brother and pushed through the ragged opening he had made.

"Daenerys," he voiced again, softer this time, his voice breaking. Upon seeing that their mother had been taken, the dragons gave gentle wails, sounding utterly like younglings once more.

Moments later, Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan threw aside the tent flap, coming to a halt in front of Loki who stared at the dragons as they mewled in dismay. "Loki!" Ser Jorah demanded of him, trying to snap his attention. "Where is she? Where is Daenerys?"

"Gone," Loki murmured, his voice empty. And he meant it in the truest sense of the word. She was somewhere that he could not sense and her absence already made him feel colder, like he was back in Jotunheim. But he could feel something else, a darkness which made his nostrils flare. Missandei peeked into the tent and gasped as she saw the dragons become angry, gnashing their teeth as they tore into the tent rug furiously.

"Where is the Khaleesi?" she asked, reflecting their earlier question as her eyes flew to the men. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan threw their arms up hopelessly, looking to Loki once again. Missandei understood. "Kaz?" she whispered.

Loki could feel his blood boil as he now realised that the boy was missing also. Surely that was no coincidence. Ser Barristan tried this time. "Loki?" he pried. "Do we know what happened? Where is the Queen?"

Loki snapped, rounding on the group. "Didn't you hear me?" he roared, his eyes morphing to their Frost Giant red. "I told you! She's gone! They took her!" His eyes continued to search around wildly as he scented the smell of death lingering in the air. His skin tinged blue as he growled, whirling on the group once more.

Missandei gave a cry and drew back in fear as Ser Jorah shielded her from Loki's fury. "Now is not the time to switch sides!" Ser Jorah threw at him, holding his blade out in front of him. "Are you going to help us find her or not?"

"Oh, I'll find her," Loki vowed, his uncertainty vanishing. He recognised the putrid scent now. "And then... I'll tear them apart. I'll pound their skulls until their brains burst and seep with gore and blood so there won't even be enough left for her dragons to devour!"

Ser Jorah looked at him in disgust but it was Missandei who spoke now. "Who took her?" she gasped, finding her voice though she still stared at him fearfully.

Loki looked at her then and forced his eyes and skin to return to their normal colour. "The same filth that has tried to before," he snarled. "I can feel their sordid presence all over the place."

Ser Barristan answered for all of them. "The warlocks."

...

**Wowee that was an epic long chapter! But I just could NOT stop writing, had to get it all in this chapter because I couldn't bear to split it up. I hope its length satisfies the time you had to wait for it. I also updated chapter 11 to make it a little longer and to add in some parts that one my readers pointed out was missing.**

**I am so sorry for the wait guys and I thank you all for your patience, especially to a few of my persevering readers, namely nightmareofcat, Tashio and AkumaRule! You guys rock **** Also a special mention to an anonymous reader (or several) for the very thoughtful reviews you left me. Thanks guys. Also a quick announcement, I will be posting one more chapter next week before I go on holidays for two weeks overseas where I will not have access to my story. Sorry guys! But I will be posting as normal when I return **** Happy Halloween everyone.**

**P.S. My inspiration for some of this chapter comes from the German folk myth of Loreley which is actually a real legend. I wrote the 'story' scene in my own words though so hope it was okay. The song lyrics for it can be found below or you can listen to it on youtube.**

**...**

Merrily we sailed along  
Though the waves were plenty strong  
Down the twisting river Rhine  
Following a song...

Legend's faded storyline  
Tried to warn us all  
Oh, they called her "Loreley"  
Careful or you'll fall...

Oh, the stories we were told  
Quite a vision to behold  
Mysteries of the seas in her eyes of gold...  
Laying on the silver stone, such a lonely sight  
Barnacles become a throne, my poor Loreley...

And the winds would cry, and many men would die  
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...  
And the winds would cry, and many men would die  
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...

You would not believe your eyes, how a voice could hypnotize  
Promises are only lies from Loreley  
In a shade of mossy green, seashell in her hand  
She was born the river queen, ne'er to grace the land...

And the winds would cry, and many men would die  
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...  
And the winds would cry, and many men would die  
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...

Oh, the song of Loreley  
Charms the moon right from the sky...  
She will get inside your mind, lovely Loreley...  
When she cries "Be with me until the end of time"  
You know you will ever be with your Loreley...

And the winds would cry, and many men would die  
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...'  
And the winds would cry, and many men would die  
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...  
And the winds would cry, and many men would die  
And all the waves would bow down to the Loreley...

~(Loreley —Blackmore Night)~


	14. Chapter 14: Flames Foretell

Chapter 14: Flames Foretell

_Dragonstone, Westeros._

She stood on the high terrace facing the darkening sea as the clouds gathered over Dragonstone, casting an unnatural glow against the castle's looming towers. Only certain individuals – gifted individuals – could interpret the direction of light as a sign that a great force was at work. It was true that very few possessed this ability to infer the early signs of the war ahead. Even fewer had the power to determine the outcome. It was a rare gift that the Red Woman coveted as she turned from the balcony to regard the flames instead. The fire burned bright in the metal casket and the flames seemed to glow even fiercer as the she moved toward it.

Embers crackled and smoke curled in captivating wisps as the witch gazed into the flames with vision beyond what eyesight could see. She saw a face yet knew not what to make of it. Hair black as the sea that swirled outside, eyes bluer than the winter ice. The darkness within his soul was a direct contrast to the ways of her God. _Could this man be important? _She perceived this vision in the fire as a threat to her cause. _Or perhaps it is the company he keeps,_ the woman thought idly as the vision warped into an image of Daenerys Targaryen.

The Red Woman, Melisandre, still did not understand the sudden empathy that the Lord of Light seemed to derive from her image, yet her God insisted on producing her likeness in every vision. _The Mother of Dragons_, she thought bitterly and she was shocked to discover that she felt some jealousy at the attention the Lord of Light paid to her. It was unnecessary of course for Daenerys Targaryen was just a tool in his unfolding schemes for Westeros. Stannis Baratheon was the true king. Still, as she watched the flames dancing before her, the image of Daenerys Targaryen's striking beauty and elegant smile did not fade as the fire only served to heighten her splendour. She may be the Mother of Dragons, but Melinsandre was on the side of Light. The Mother of Demons, Melinsandre recalled the title that Ser Davos had addressed her with when they last met. _We shall see,_ the Red Woman contemplated as her gaze bore into the young beauty in the flames, _who would wage a more fearsome war in the end, the Mother of Dragons or the Mother of Demons_.

The echo of footsteps in the corridor broke her concentration and she waved a hand dismissively causing the fire to go out so that the room was shrouded in near darkness. Stannis preferred his rooms darker now for he feared he would not take kindly to the visions she saw in the flames. Unless the flames showed victory, he tired quickly of her predictions. Stannis Baratheon appeared in the doorway now, exhausted and his eyes sunken into his weary skull as he dragged his thinning limbs into the room.

"Well," he prompted with a croaky but determined voice. "Is it done?"

Melisandre gave a submissive bow to her Lord and allowed the fire to spring to life once again. Her eyes became somewhat glazed as she stared into the blaze, willing it to show her what she desired. "Robb Stark is fallen," she confirmed, peaking at him through the tendrils of her thick red hair. "He perished at the hands of Walder Frey. The Lord of Light has made it so." Part of what held Stannis in Melinsandre's thrall was her ability to appear sultry and mysterious at the same time. She knew this and she exploited it to the best of her ability, using her gifts from the Lord of Light and her lithe body to incite his pride. Stannis may be the true king, as she always referred to him as, but he was still another puppet for the Lord of Light. She approached him then, swaying her body hypnotically and allowing her hair to fan out against her ample cleavage, clasped tightly and pushed up even higher than normal in her scarlet, corseted dress. She did not miss the way her King's eyes darted to her breasts nor the way he licked his lips as he forced his gaze into the fire instead.

"Good," Stannis said without mercy and he sunk into a nearby chair, facing the flames but unable to see the vision that she saw. "And what of the Dragon girl?" he asked at length, dragging his hand across the stubble on his face as he regarded Melisandre once more. "Why do we not simply kill her with a blood sacrifice as we did the other contenders?"

Melisandre forced a patient smile to adorn her features for she too was asking the same question. She did not dare place her doubts before the Lord of Light however for to question him would mean falling out of favour, and she had worked so very hard to earn it. "Because the Lord of Light commands it," Melisandre intoned, sweeping her dress into her hands as she placed herself against her King's armchair. She leaned forward, allowing her breasts to drift closer to his face as he breathed in her scent of ash and blood.

"The night is dark and full of terrors, my King," she whispered against his face. "The Lord of Light has plans for the girl. And her dragons, no doubt."

"Why?" he asked irritably, unable to tear his gaze away from her encroaching chest.

"Even I am not privy to all of his ways," she answered, her tone hinting disappointment. "He shows me only what he wishes."

"Is she in our custody, at least?" he pressed, eyes darting to her face finally.

Melisandre gave a dutiful nod. "I conversed with the warlocks some time ago, conveying the Lord of Light's intentions to them," she told him. "They follow the old ways and understand the importance of his plan." She gestured to the high towers outside the balcony where they kept the message ravens. "They sent a bird just some time ago," she acknowledged. "They have her in their possession and will attempt to sway her."

"Your God thinks she will see our ways?" he spat harshly. "That she will recognise me as the True King and not herself?"

"He does not explain," Melisandre reminded him. "He only commands."

Stannis seized her arm in a bruising grip, causing her to be dragged even closer until she was only a hairsbreadth from his lips. "And if you were to hazard a guess?" he whispered dangerously.

Melisandre lowered her eyes. "I think he means to use her dragons in the coming war," she said, her voice steady though her arm grew numb in his grasp. "Dragons are fire moulded into flesh and the Lord of Light reserves the right to command such creatures."

Stannis searched her face before releasing her with a mocking snort. "She is the Mother of Dragons. Only she commands them," he said resolutely, striking a chord within Melisandre. She forced herself to remain calm as she rubbed her sore arm.

"She is not their true Mother," Melisandre determined as she sat in Stannis' lap. "They only hatched in her presence. They can be turned against her by the Lord of Light."

"And if you ask any man, they will tell you that beasts follow flesh not Gods."

"That is why I do not ask mere men," she murmured seductively, leaning in to trace the shell of his ear with her tongue. "After everything I have done for you, do you still doubt me?"

Stannis breathed sharply against her neck, closing his eyes as she sucked his earlobe into her mouth. "No," he gasped raggedly. "I just wish the Lord of Light was clearer in the visions he shows you. What good is seeing the future if you cannot see it clearly and concisely? It is useless to see a picture in fragments."

"The future is fluid," she admitted, releasing his ear and placing her hand against his shoulder. "It cannot remain clear or else we would not be able to change it."

Stannis stared at her and gave a weary sigh. "Will you go to them?" he inquired. "Will you leave me again to do your God's bidding?"

She stroked his face in reverence. "No, my King" she spoke confidently. "I shan't leave you this time." She was glad of it too for she had no desire to see the Dragon wench in all her glory.

"You can assure me that her dragons will be of use?" he asked uncertainly.

"I know only what the flames tell me," she responded mysteriously. "But even then, my King... there is word that she is in possession of another dragon. One that is unhatched."

He pulled away from her in astonishment. "Another egg?"

"Do you doubt me now?" she asked smugly.

Stannis responded by pulling her into a passionate kiss, all dominance and full of need. He ripped her red dress down the front, pulling it apart at the bosom to expose her naked flesh. As he devoured her breasts hungrily, the flames sparked and raged behind them, casting shadows and exposing their lovemaking in dark silhouettes. Their gasping could be heard even above the tremulous waves crashing below.

_For the night is dark and full of terrors_.

...

_Loki_

Anxious eyes followed Loki while he paced in agitation, eyes blazing in fury as he tried to access the ever fading fingerprint of magic left behind by the warlocks. Infuriatingly, Loki could not sense Daenerys' presence any longer so either they had found a way to cloak her or...

_Her screams echoed throughout his subconscious_.

_No_, he thought severely, he would not even consider the alternative.

"Are we going to talk about what happened just now?" Ser Jorah asked cautiously as Loki moved to all areas of the tent, taking in the imprint left by the warlocks.

"No," Loki growled, not even sure what Ser Jorah had asked of him. Ser Barristan had left them some time ago to inform the Unsullied and the Dothraki of the uncertain circumstances that had befallen Daenerys. The men were preparing search parties even now, though Loki doubted it would do them much good. No one but he himself knew how to track pestilent magic such as this.

"You were projecting dark magic, Loki. Do not deny it," Ser Jorah accused as Missandei looked between them fearfully.

"What are you blathering about?" Loki barked, whirling on him and feeling quite perplexed despite his anger.

"I don't know what kind of powers you seem to think you possess but from where I'm standing, that kind magic could be what put Daenerys in danger in the first place!" Ser Jorah was relentless and Loki could feel his fury mounting, resisting the urge to pound him into the ground.

"What are you saying old man?" Loki demanded heatedly. "You think I had something to do with this?"

"I can think of worse places to start!"

Before Ser Jorah could react, Loki had him hoisted into the air with both fists thrust into his shirt and around his throat. Loki's teeth were bared mere inches from his face. Missandei gave a short scream and backed away; looking around wildly for some help but no one came.

Ser Jorah could not tear his gaze away from Loki's in this position and Loki pushed his advantage, letting the older man stare directly at his features as he once again morphed into his Frost Giant self. In this light, and so close to his person, there was no denying the inhumane look in Loki's eyes, nor the unnatural cobalt skin that shone with the rage he was feeling. Ser Jorah's eyes widened and he renewed his struggles, giving a sharp yelp when Loki gripped him tighter. The dragons snarled as the confrontation escalated but Loki ignored them.

"How about now?" Loki hissed, his red irises flashing. "Can you think of a worse end than this?"

"What are you?" Ser Jorah wheezed, his face turning red.. "You- You're not even human!"

Loki gave a bitter laugh. "You flatter me, Ser Jorah." He cocked his head menacingly. "I am curious as to how a man such as yourself reacts when facing their end. Is it courage or fear that motivates your final moments?"

"Go to hell," Ser Jorah spat with some difficulty as Loki's hold on him refused to lessen even an inch.

Loki's eyes narrowed coldly. "Believe me, I already have," Loki promised him with malice.

"Stop!" Missandei cried from the opening of the tent. "Stop this now! We are never going to find the Khaleesi if you two are at each other's throats!"

Loki shot her a look of animalistic and dark pleasure. "I do believe I am the one holding him up by the throat," he pointed out, shaking Ser Jorah for emphasis.

"You can't hurt him," Missandei solicited firmly.

"And why not?" Loki snarled, hefting Ser Jorah once more and the older man glared at him as he fought to breathe.

"Because you'll only be hurting, Daenerys," Missandei said softly. "I do not pretend to know what you are. Your magic is beyond anything I have ever seen." Her fearful eyes roved his blue skin and searing blood red eyes with a morbid fascination. "But," she continued truthfully as she spoke above her own fright. "I know that hurting her is the last thing you want to do. She trusts you."

Loki's features resumed their human countenance and he slowly lowered Ser Jorah back to the floor as the man shoved off of him, staring at Loki with no small measure of hatred. "You have only known Daenerys and myself for a small measure of time," Loki said, his tone quiet as he regarded Missandei. "How can you be sure of this?"

"Because _they_ trust you," Missandei voiced with certainty, gesturing to the mythic beasts beside him. Loki followed her gaze as the dragons bared their teeth, still furious over the loss of their mother and eager for bloodshed. It was only now that Loki realised that as he threatened Daenerys' most trusted advisor, not one of the beasts had lifted a claw against him. Even in their absolute fury, they had not tried to harm him.

At that moment, Ser Barristan returned with Grey Worm in tow and wearing the same panic stricken expression as Missandei did when they saw the tension seeping off of the quarrelling men. "What's here?" Ser Barristan demanded, misinterpreting their anger. "Do we know if the Queen has been hurt in some way?"

Loki's cold heart twisted at the thought as his eyes returned to the furious man in front of him. "I would not have any harm come to her," Loki told Ser Jorah, his anger abating a little. "I will find her."

Ser Jorah looked at him with a less than forgiving expression. "It is for her that I do this," Ser Jorah vowed wrathfully. "I still wish that we had never pulled you from the sea."

Loki pushed aside the fury that threatened to bubble to the surface once more. "I said I'll find her."

"Then do it," Ser Jorah insisted. "Before she is beyond either of our help."

Loki gave him a grim nod and turned to Ser Barristan. "They cannot have gone too far, even with their magic. They may still be hidden within Yunkai or at the camp of the Second Sons for a brief period before they make their escape."

Grey Worm shook his head. "If they are they won't be there for long. They got what they came more."

Ser Jorah gave the Unsullied Captain an odd look. "You mean the Queen, I presume?"

Ser Barristan and Grey Worm exchanged solemn looks. "More than that," Ser Barristan informed them. "I searched the Queen's marquee for clues on where the warlocks may have taken her but found nothing. And worse... the dragon egg is gone."

...

_Somewhere in the shadows-_

Daenerys moaned softly as she stirred subconsciously in her bindings, her eyes fluttering open as she squinted in the dim light. She was situated in another tent and, though it was evidently not her own, it resembled the plush furnishings that she was used to. Her hands and feet were bound so she was surprised to discover that she had been laid gently against a lavish lounge with a pillow supporting her head. She tried to sit up but found her head swam with the vague stirrings of nausea as she choked back some bile.

"Apologies," came a sly and slimy voice from the shadows and she jumped slightly, believing herself to be alone. "But I couldn't have you getting any early ideas of escape. It would not be wise at this juncture."

_The warlocks_. Her memory reminded her grimly of the figure who had arisen in front of her before forcing her into unconsciousness with a rag containing a vile smelling concoction. "You may as well come out. I know who you are," Daenerys croaked, forcing down the bile in her throat as she stared in the direction of the shadows which shrouded the voice.

A bald man with blue tinged lips and grey, empty eyes leered at her as he came into view, his dark cloak swirling behind him and making him seem a part of the shadows themselves. He gave her a mocking bow by keeping eye contact and bending only half the knee. "Mother of Dragons," he acknowledged with an evil smirk.

"Pyat Pree," she responded with even less enthusiasm.

She flinched as the hairless warlock gave a chilling and resounding laugh. "Oh, no you killed him," the warlock explained with a dark sneer. "He has served all the purpose he is going to serve." He twirled his hand in what she assumed to be a flourish as he swept his cloak behind him. "I am Pyat Bane."

Daenerys gave a twisted sort of smile. "Funny," she said, holding back her sickly groan. "You remind me very much of a man I once had burned to death." Her eyes stared resolutely at the warlock as his smirk fell. "You could be his twin," she finished with dark humour, her eyes alight with dragon fire.

"Careful woman," he addressed her crassly. "You are a guest in my chambers now. Speak to me with some respect."

"I didn't ask to be," she hissed and this time she couldn't hold back her groan as the nausea surfaced again. "What did you give me?"

The warlock smiled, pleased by her discomfort. "It is a new concoction obtained in Slaver's Bay to make certain servants more... agreeable," he chuckled forebodingly. "It is called Shadow's Kiss." Daenerys groaned again and he crossed his arms impatiently. "Its effects will wear off soon enough," he told her crossly. He placed a wooden bucket at the foot of the couch. "If you should need to be sick, use this."

He crossed the room again and left her there, feeling sick and utterly weak. Through her haze of nausea, she gave her bindings an experimental tug and was not shocked when they held fast. She huffed in frustration and fell back against the cushions, feeling certain that if she tried to leave the tent in any fashion she would receive another dose of the foul smelling liquid.

It felt like hours that passed and she drifted into unconsciousness again, only snapping awake when she heard a light scuffling in the tent. Her eyes were alert now and she was grateful to find that the nausea had abated. She sat up cautiously now as the soft sound reached her ears again.

"Who's there?" she demanded, her gaze roving the room. A pair of dark brown doe eyes peeked out at her from behind a desk in the corner.

"Kaz," she said softly but her anger remained. The child crept out of his hiding place and Daenerys felt her fury dissipate entirely when she saw the child's broken expression.

"I'm so sorry, Khaleesi," he sniffed tearfully, rushing forward to her but not daring to touch her. "I didn't know they were going to take you. They said they would help me and they did. They set me free and brought me to you. So I trusted them when they said they just wanted to talk to you."

Heartrending tears began to leak down his face and he wiped them away with the ragged cloth of his shirt sleeve. "You have to believe me," he begged her. "I would never do this. I'm sorry." He buried his face in his hands and Daenerys dropped to the floor beside him, pulling him into her lap.

_He's just a child_, her mind whispered to her and Daenerys could not remain angry with the boy anymore than she could help her sympathy for the plight of slaves. "It's alright," she hushed him and he clutched her around the stomach. "I believe you."

"I just wanted it to be over," he sobbed into her lap. "The visions, the nightmares. I didn't understand them. I thought the warlocks were going to help me."

Daenerys pushed his hair back from his face as he wept and shook in her arms. "Visions?" Daenerys asked, not understanding.

Kaz hiccupped lightly and she felt him nod against her chest. "All the time. My masters used to punish me for them. But I couldn't help them. I couldn't stop them from coming. It used to scare the animals."

_Animals and visions._ Her eyes widened. "You are a warg," she realised with dawning clarity and Kaz sat back slightly to look at her.

"That's what the warlocks called it," he sniffed, wiping his eyes once more. "They said it was a gift."

"And so it is," a strong, masculine voice resounded through the room, startling Daenerys yet again and she cursed herself for not expecting the vulgar mannerisms of her captors. Kaz fell back from her lap, moving to sit almost obediently on the couch, leaving Daenerys to suspect that this man was not to be trifled with. She narrowed her eyes at this newcomer as he stepped into the tent, but her breath hitched in her throat when he revealed his full visage.

The man before her towered taller than Drogo ever did and he was even more formidable. Muscles stretched full and firm across his arms and chest, with skin so tan that it almost did resemble Dothraki. She would have supposed him to be of Dothraki or similar origins if not for his dark golden blonde hair, cut short and without any braiding. His halo of hair fell softly against the sculpted planes of his face and his eyes were of a deep russet brown. But there was no warmth in those irises, and yet ironically enough Daenerys was reminded faintly of fire when she looked at this man. This might be because he was also garbed in deep, blood red robes which fell to the floor, cinched at the waist and showing a small amount of tanned skin at the apex of his taut stomach. He was also breathtakingly handsome, marred only by the evil smile that stretched full across his lips.

"You should be proud Kaz," the man affirmed with a smile that did not reach his eyes as he glared at the boy. Kaz sunk into the couch, avoiding his gaze and pulling a pillow closer to him for protection. "You have a gift that many would kill for. In fact you should use it for just that. Killing."

"And just who are you to decide?" she shot back angrily as the man's gaze slid to her. She wished she had not opened her mouth but she refused to back down now as the man regarded her.

"Daenerys Stormborn," he said silkily, his eyes raking over her figure in an appraising manner. She felt her skin crawl under his gaze and she fidgeted as his eyes returned to hers and his smirk widened. "Well, aren't you just the loveliest being I ever did encounter."

"Haven't had the pleasure," she said through gritted teeth, fuming at the way his eyes lingered appreciatively on her breasts. Thankfully, she was still fully clothed.

"Of course not. I am R'Nhor, named in the favour of the Lord of Light and High Priest of the Red Brotherhood," he spoke amiably, seizing her hand and bending to place a kiss on it. She whipped it away before his lips could touch her skin and his mouth quirked to the side as he straightened to full height.

"I believe you have already met Pyat Bane," he admonished, moving to the side as the warlock once again made an uneasy appearance. The warlock's eyes appeared even more sunken into his skull as he stood next to this vision of a man. Daenerys shook herself, feeling as though his pull was placing her under a slight trance. She would be damned before she would let that happen.

"Well," she snapped, feeling her anger get the better of her once again. "At least I know what names your widows will scream when my dragons burn your flesh into charred corpses."

This did not have the intended effect as R'Nhor through his head back and laughed, even to the amazement of Pyat Bane. When he finally stopped laughing, Daenerys saw her first actual glimpse of emotion in the man's eyes. It made her want to run far and fast, an emotion that she was unused to but unable to withhold as she witnessed his predatory nature.

"Simply delightful," he purred, still chuckling and Daenerys felt her stomach drop as he approached her. "That fire burns hot in your veins, doesn't it Mother of Dragons?" he whispered provocatively and Daenerys recoiled from his looming figure. She could tell he scented her fear but it only heightened his enjoyment at her expense. "You know," he admitted with a rapacious grin. "If you wanted to know if I had a wife waiting for me, you only had to ask."

"You're vile," Daenerys said truthfully but his menacing sneer did not waver.

"Actually, I am legend," he told her, spreading his arms wide with arrogance that Daenerys could only marvel at. "I was chosen. As are you. To serve in the haven and at the pleasure of the Lord of Light."

"Chosen?" Daenerys voiced coldly. "You mean coerced. I was brought here and not my will."

"Everything you have done and will do has all been a part of his plan," R'Nhor affirmed. "Your dragons are the very essence of his power and your magic flows from them. You are able to wield it because you are his servant."

"I am nobody's slave," Daenerys scowled at him with unmasked fury. "And I posses none of this magic of which you speak."

"You do," R'Nhor assured her. "And you will." He was in front of her so fast that she cried out when he grasped her shoulders firmly, spinning her so that she faced away from him and his hard chest was pressed flush against her back. She was too absorbed with what she now saw in the corner of the tent to even pull away from the awful touch he was exuding upon her body. Her dragon's egg lay amidst dozens of candles and silken scarves, seeming too fragile to touch in this dark arena.

"You will do his bidding," R'Nhor promised her as his lips pressed against her soft hair and she shuddered in revulsion. "Beginning with your new dragon."

...

**OHMIGOSH! How's that for a fast update? ;) Well folks that's all for two weeks. I hope it is enough! If I have time tomorrow I may update chapter 1, but I am leaving tomorrow night so we will see how I go. Still packing! See you all in a couple of weeks.**


	15. UPDATE

**See you when I get back guys ****Two weeks will go by quicker than you think! I can't thank you enough for all the commitment you, as readers, show to this story. Even more, you are the reason I enjoy writing so much because it's a truly wonderful feeling to know that there are readers out there who appreciate the effort I put into a story and enjoy it as much as I do. Thanks again!**

**So just another quick announcement, as you know I have posted chapter 14. I do not have time for another though as I am literally leaving tomorrow and I need to finish packing. I did, however, have time to edit chapter 1 and I have since updated it so that it reads easier for some viewers. I hope it is easier to understand however I would also advise to use some level of imagination. Sometimes it's hard to paint an exact picture when everyone's minds are so different. Look forward to hearing from you all soon.**

**Ciao! **


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